UCSB   LIBRARY 


7 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER   I. 

POLLY    GIVES    MUSIC    LESSONS          .  9 

CHAPTER   II. 

GETTING    READY    FOR    CHRISTMAS 

CHAPTER  III. 

CHRISTMAS    AT    DUNRAVEN  53 

CHAPTER   IV. 

THE    FESTIVITIES  .  .  79 

CHAPTER  V. 

BAD    NEWS  .  •  105 

CHAPTER   VI. 

OF    MANY    THINGS  126 

CHAPTER   VII. 

PHRONSIE       .... 


149 


CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

POLLY  LOOKS  OUT  FOK  CHARLOTTE   .     172 

CHAPTER  IX. 

POLLY'S  RECITAL          ....         193 

CHAPTER  X. 

0 

PHRONSIE    HAS    A    PLAN  .  .  .  219 

CHAPTER  XL 

THINGS    ARE    GETTING    MIXED          .  .  235 

CHAPTER  XII. 

POLLY    TRIES    TO    DO    WHAT    IS    RIGHT  .  255 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

THE    ACCIDENT        .  .  .  .  272 

CHAPTER  XIV. 
JOEL 297 

CHAPTER  XV. 

THE    FARMHOUSE    HOSPITAL  317 

CHAPTER   XVI. 

ON    THE    BORDERLAND  .  338 

CHAPTER   XVII. 

JASPER  .  35(5 


CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 

MR.    KING    ATTENDS    TO    MATTERS  377 

CHAPTER   XIX. 

MOTHER    FISHER    AND    CHARLOTTE  395 

CHAPTER  XX. 

STRAIGHTENING    OUT    AFFAIRS         .  416 

CHAPTER   XXI. 

POLLY  TRIES  TO  HELP  JASPER   .     .     434 

CHAPTER  XXII. 

MR.    KING    AND    POLLY  .  .  .  454 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 

THAT    SETTLES    MANY    THINGS         .  .  476 

CHAPTER  XXIV. 
HOME! 499 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


"  Well,  Amy  child,  how  can  I  help  you  ?"   Frontis. 
"  Why,  Polly  Pepper,  what  do  you  mean  ?"    .          15 
"  Baby  ought  to  have  a  Christmas  tree,"  said 

Phronsie  slowly  .  .  .  .  .  35 
"Oh!"  said  Jack  Longhead.  Then  he  tapped 

his  boot  with  his  walking  stick  .  .  45 
"Joel's  gone,"  panted  Phronsie,  flying  hack  .  56 
Joel  swinging  a  big  box,  rushed  into  Dunraven 

Hall ,.63 

"And  did  we,"  cried  Phronsie,  "find  it  out, 

Polly,  and  spoil  it  all  ?"  ...  71 
'  Will  you  ?  "  asked  P  hronsie,  looking  down 

into  their  faces  .  .  .  .  .  85 
"  We  don't  know  how  to  tell  is,  Grandpapa  "  111 
"  Now  do  set  us  to  work,  Joel "  .  .  117 

"  Oh,  you  don't  know  how  I  miss  those  boys!"        136 
' '  And  please  make  dear  papa  give  her  the  right 

things  " 145 

Charlotte,  standing  composedly  in  one  corner 

of  the  hall       ....  155 


LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS. 

Alexia  coolly  read  on,  one  arm  around  Polly  .  165 
'•  My  dear  Alexia,"  cried  Miss  Salisbury,  quite 

softened,  "  don't  feel  so  "  .  .  .  185 

"  I'll  not  sing  a  note !" 201 

"  For  shame,  Polly,  if  the  Little  Brown  House 

teachings  are  forgotten  like  this  "  .  209 
Polly  turned  and  waved  her  music-roll  at  them  215 
"  I'm  not  going  to  lecture  you  "  .  .  .  231 
"  Don't  stop  me,"  cried  Pickering  crossly  .  237 
"  I'm  going  home,"  declared  Charlotte  .  .  241 
"  What  do  you  say  ?  "  cried  Polly  .  .  .  257 
"  Oh,  Polly,  are  you  hurt?"  ....  275 
Old  Mr.  King  drew  up  his  chair  to  oversee  it  all  283 
'•  You  come  along  yourself,  Dobbs,"  said  Joel 

pleasantly 305 

"I'll  help  you;  I'm  strong,"  said  Charlotte  .  321 
"  It's  so  nice,  everybody  is  getting  on  so  well," 

said  Polly        .        .        .        .        .        .        325 

Then  Phronsie  glanced  back  again,  and  softly 

jogged  the  cradle 333 

"Why  do  you  put  your  apron  up  there?" 

asked  Phronsie  in  gentle  reproach  .  340 
"  An  old  gentleman  in  my  room,"  repeated 

Jasper,  turning  on  the  stairs  .  .  364 
"Good-morning,"  said  Mr.  Marlowe;  "  busi- 
ness all  right  ?"  371 

"  How  you  can  sit  there  and  laugh  when  Joe 

is  in  danger,  I   don't  see,"  exclaimed 

Percy  irritably 392 


LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS. 

"  Well,  now  I  have  two  babies,"  said  Mother 

Fisher 403 

"  I've  always  found,"  said  Dr.  Fisher,  "that 
all  you  had  to  do  to  start  a  thing,  was 
to  begin " 409 

"  Phronsie,  get  a  glass  of  water;  be  quick, 

child!" 432 

"  I  think  it  was  a  mean  shame ! "  began  Dick 

wrathfully 437 

"  Oh,  why  did  I  speak  ?  "  cried  Polly  over  and 

over 447 

"  Are  you  sick,  Polly  ?"  cried  Phronsie  anx- 
iously .......  450 

';  Polly  hasn't  had  all  the  milk,"  said  Phronsie        461 

Amy 473 

"  Nothing  can  be  too  good  for  Polly  Pepper !  " 

cried  Alexia,  starting  forward  .  .  479 

He  walked  off,  leaving  Polly  alone  in  the  lane        491 

".My !  what  a  sight  of  fish !  "  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Higby,  dropping  to  her  knees  beside 
the  basket 495 

"  Now,  Jasper,  you  begin,"  cried  Polly,  "  and 
we'll  tell  Mamsie  all  about  it,  as  we 
always  do  when  we  get  home "  .  .  513 

"  Polly,  do  come  with  us! "  •        •        •        519 

"  And  you  will  be  my  own  brother,  Jasper," 

said  Phronsie  ......  525 


FIVE  LITTLE   PEPPERS 
GROWN   UP 


CHAPTER   I. 

POLLY    GIVES    MUSIC    LESSONS. 

ISS  PEPPER  —  Miss  Pepper!" 

olly  turned  quickly,  it  was  such  an 
anxious  little  cry. 

"  What  ?     Oh,  Amy  Loughead." 

Amy  threw  herself  up  against  Polly's  gown- 
"  Oh,  if  I  may,"  she  began,  flushing  painfully. 
"  You  see  my  brother  is  coming  to-morrow  — 
I've  a  letter  —  so  if  you  will  let  me." 

"  Let  you  what  ?  "  cried  Polly,  with  a  little 
laugh  ;  "  go  on,  Amy,  don't  be  afraid." 

"  You  see  it  is  just  this  way,"  Amy  twisted 
her  fingers  together,  drew  her  breath  hard,  and 
rushed  on  nervously ;  "  Jack  —  he's  my  brother, 
you  know  —  promised  me  —  I  never  told  you  — - 
if  I  would  only  learn  to  play  on  the  piano,  he'd 


10  POLLY    GIVES    MUSIC    LESSONS. 

take  me  to  Europe  with  him  next  time,  and 
now  he's  coming  T;o-morrow,  and  —  and,  oh ! 
what  shall  I  do?" 

Amy  was  far  gone  now,  and  she  ended  with 
a  little  howl  of  distress,  that  brought  two  or 
three  of  the  "  Salisbury  girls "  flying  in  with 
astonishment. 

"  Go  back,"  said  Polly  to  them  all,  and  they 
ran  off  as  suddenly  as  they  had  popped  in,  to 
leave  Amy  and  the  music  teacher  alone. 

"  Now,  Amy,"  said  Polly  kindly,  getting 
down  on  her  knees  beside  the  girl  where  she 
had  thrown  herself  on  the  broad  lounge,  "  you 
must  just  understand,  dear,  that  I  cannot  help 
you  unless  you  will  have  self-control  and  be  a 
little  woman  yourself." 

"  You  told  me  I  would  be  sorry  if  I  didn't 
practice,"  mourned  Amy,  dragging  her  wet 
little  handkerchief  between  her  fingers,  "  but  I 
didn't  suppose  Jack  was  coming  for  six  months, 
and  I'd  have  time  to  catch  up,  and  now  —  oh 
dear  me ! "  and  she  burrowed  deeper  into  Miss 
Salisbury's  big  sofa-pillow. 

"  Take  care ! "  warned  Polly,  with  a  ready 
hand  to  rescue  the  elaborate  combination  of  silk 


POLLY    GIVES    MUSIC    LESSONS.  11 

and  floss,  "  it  would  be  a  very  dreadful  thing  if 
this  should  get  spoiled." 

Amy  Loughead  brought  her  wet  cheek  off 
suddenly.  "  There  isn't  a  single  tear  on  it,  Miss 
Pepper,"  she  gasped. 

"That's  very  fortunate,"  said  Polly,  with  a 
relieved  breath.  "  Well,  Amy  child,  how  can  I 
help  you  ?  "  She  sat  down  now,  and  drew  the 
girl's  hot  little  hand  within  her  own. 

"  I  can  almost  play  that  horrible  '  Chopin,' " 
said  Amy  irrelevantly ;  "  that  is,  I  could,  if  — 
oh  Miss  Pepper,"  she  broke  off  suddenly  and 
brought  her  flushed  face  very  near  to  the  one 
above  her,  "  could  you  help  me  play  it  —  just 
hear  me,  you  know,  and  tell  me  things  you  did, 
over  again,  about  it,  if  I  practice  all  the  after- 
noon ?  Could  you  ?  " 

"  This  evening,  do  you  mean  ?  "  asked  Polly, 
a  trifle  sharply. 

"Yes,"  said  Amy  faintly,  and  twisting  her 
handkerchief.  "  Oh  dear  me,  I  know  you're  so 
tired.  What  shall  I  do?" 

"But  you  don't  understand,"  cried  Polly, 
vexed  with  herself  that  she  couldn't  help  her 
annoyance  from  being  seen.  "I  shall  put  some 


12  POLLY    GIVES    MUSIC    LESSONS. 

one  else  out  if  I  give  up  my  evening.  I  have 
an  engagement,  Amy.  No,  I  don't  see  how  I 
can  do  it,  child ;  I'm  sorry."  And  then  before 
she  knew  how,  she  put  both  arms  around  the 
little  figure.  "  Don't  cry,  dear,  I  suppose  I  must. 
I'll  get  out  of  the  other  thing.  Yes,  fly  at 
Chopin,  and  keep  your  courage  up,  and  I'll  be 
over  at  seven.  Then  to-morrow  Brother  Jack 
will  say  '  How  fine ! '  and  off  you'll  go  over 
the  seas ! " 

Outside,  Polly,  after  enlisting  Miss  Salisbury's 
favor  for  the  evening's  plan,  was  hurrying  along 
the  pavement,  calling  herself  an  hundred  foolish 
names  for  helping  an  idle  girl  out  of  a  scrape. 
"  And  to  think  of  losing  the  only  chance  to 
hear  D' Albert,"  she  mourned.  "  Well,  it's  done 
now,  and  can't  be  helped.  Even  .Jasper  when 
he  hears  of  it,  will  think  me  a  silly,  I  suppose. 
Now  to  make  my  peace  with  Pickering." 

She  turned  down  the  avenue  running  out 
from  the  street  that  had  the  honor  to  contain 
"  Miss  Salisbury's  Boarding  and  Day  School  for 
Young  Ladies,"  and  met  face  to  face,  suddenly, 
a  young  man,  about  whose  joy  at  meeting  her, 
there  could  be  no  doubt. 


POLLY    GIVES    MUSIC    LESSONS.  13 

"Oh,  Polly!"  he  cried,  "here,  let  me  take 
that  detestable  thing ! "  trying  to  get  the  music- 
roll  out  of  her  hand. 

"  Take  care  how  you  talk  against  this,"  cried 
Polly,  hugging  it  closer.  "Indeed  you  shall 
not  touch  it,  till  you  are  glad  that  I  am  a 
music  teacher.  Oh,  I  must  tell  you  —  I  was  on 
my  way  to  your  house  because  I  was  afraid  you 
wouldn't  understand  a  note.  I  can't  go  to- 
night." 

"  Can't  go  to-night  ?  "  repeated  Pickering,  in 
his  astonishment  forgetting  all  his  manners. 
"  Why,  Polly  Pepper,  what  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Why,  I  must  give  it  up,"  cried  Polly  ner- 
vously ;  "  don't  ask  me  —  or  perhaps  I  ought 
to  tell  you,  Pickering,  then  you'll  see  I  can't 
help  myself."  And  Polly  rapidly  unfolded  her 
plan  for  the  evening,  omitting  all  details  as  to 
Amy's  careless  waste  of  her  lessons  despite  all 
efforts  to  make  her  practice.  At  the  end  of 
the  recital,  Pickering  Dodge  came  to  a  full 
pause  on  the  sidewalk,  regardless  of  all  passers- 
by,  and  turned  a  glowering  face  on  Polly,  who 
was  forced  to  stand  still  also,  and  look  at  him. 

"  What  idiocy ! "  he  exclaimed,  "  to  give  up 


14  POLLY    GIVES    MUSIC    LESSONS. 

D'Albert  for-  that  ignoramus!  Polly,  are  you 
losing  your  senses  ?  " 

"I  don't  know,"  said  poor  Polly,  who  had 
lost  the  first  flush  of  enthusiasm  over  her  plan, 
and  to  whom  nothing  now  seemed  so  delightful 
as  the  sight  and  sound  of  D'Albert  and  his 
wonderful  melody.  "  Well,  it's  done,  so  don't 
tempt  me  to  feel  badly,  Pickering." 

"  Indeed,  and  it's  not  done,"  said  Pickering 
angrily ;  "  you  made  the  engagement,  Polly. 
I  never  knew  you  to  break  one  before,"  he 
added  stingingly. 

The  tears  flew  into  Polly's  brown  eyes,  and 
every  bit  of  color  deserted  her  round  cheek. 
"  Don't  call  it  that,  Pickering,"  she  implored, 
putting  out  her  hand. 

"I  shall  call  it  just  what  it  is,"  declared 
Pickering,  in  his  stiff est  fashion.  "It's  a 
broken  engagement,  Polly  Pepper,  nothing 
more  nor  less." 

"Then,"  said  Polly,  all  her  tears  dried,  "I 
must  go  with  you,  if  you  hold  me  to  it."  She 
raised  her  head,  and  looked  him  full  in  the  eyes. 
"  I  will  be  ready,"  and  she  moved  off  with  her 
most  superb  air,  without  deigning  a  good-by. 


:  WHY,    POIXY   PEPPliR,    WHAT  DO   YOU   MEAN  ?  " 


POLLY    GIVES    MUSIC    LESSONS.  17 

"Oh,  Polly,"  cried  Pickering,  starting  for- 
ward to  overtake  her,  "see  here,  if  you  very 
much  wish  it,  wrhy,  of  course,  Polly  —  Polly,  do 
look  around ! " 

"  What  do  you  wish  to  say  ? "  asked  Polly, 
not  looking  around  as  he  gained  her  side. 

"  Why,  of  course,"  cried  Pickering,  his  words 
stumbling  over  each  other,  "  if  you  can't  go, 
I'll  —  I'll  give  it  up,  and  stay  at  home." 

"  And  why  should  you  stay  at  home  ?  "  cried 
Polly,  suddenly  giving  him  a  glimpse  of  her 
face ;  "  you've  lovely  seats ;  do  ask  Alexia." 

"  Alexia  !  "  exclaimed  Pickering  angrily. 
"  Indeed  I  will  not.  I  don't  want  any  one  if  I 
can't  have  you,  Polly."  He  was  really  miser- 
able now,  and  needed  comfort,  so  she  turned 
around  and  administered  it  as  only  Polly 
could. 

By  the  time  the  talk  was  over,  she  hurried 
off  with  a  radiant  face,  and  Pickering  with  an 
expression  only  one  remove  from  that  of  ab- 
solute gloom,  retraced  his  steps  to  lay  one  of 
"  the  lovely  seats  "  for  the  D' Albert  concert, 
before  Miss  Rhys,  for  her  acceptance. 

Phronsie  came  slowly  down  the  hall  to  meet 


18  POLLY    GIVES    MUSIC    LESSONS. 

Polly  as  usual ;  this  day  with  one  of  her  com- 
pany white  gowns  on.  Polly  always  knew 
when  these  were  donned  that  something  un- 
usual was  to  be  expected  from  the  daily  routine 
of  the  household. 

"Are  you  really  and  truly  home,  Polly?" 
asked  Phronsie,  taking  the  music-roll  to  tuck  it 
under  her  own  arm. 

"  Yes,  Pet ; "  Polly  set  a  kiss  on  the  red  lips. 
"  And  I  am  as  hungry  as  a  beaver,  Phronsie." 

u  So  yOu  must  be,"  said  Phronsie,  with  a  lit- 
tle sigh,  "  for  you  were  so  long  in  coming  home. 
Well,  do  hurry  now,  Polly." '  This  last  as  Polly 
was  skipping  over  the  stairs  to  her  own  room 
to  freshen  up  a  bit.  Then  Phronsie  turned 
into  the  dining-room  to  be  quite  sure  that  the 
butler  had  made  the  belated  luncheon  as  fine 
as  Polly  could  desire  it. 

"  She  didn't  ask  why  I  had  on  this  gown," 
mused  Phronsie,  softly  disposing  again  the 
flowers  at  Polly's  plate, "  and  it's  funny,  I  think, 
for  Polly  always  sees  everything ;"  and  she  be- 
gan to  look  troubled  at  once. 

"  This  is  just  as  splendid  as  it  can  be,"  cried 
Polly,  coming  in,  and  picking  up  one  of  the  roses 


PHKONS1E   CAMK   SLOWLY    DOWN  THK    HALL* 


POLLY    GIVES    MUSIC    LESSONS.  21 

at  her  plate.  "  Phronsie,  you  are  just  a  dear 
to  have  everything  so  nice,"  and  she  fastened 
it  at  her  belt.  "Why,  dear  me!  You've  a 
fine  gown  on  !  What  is  going  to  happen  ? " 

"  And  you  didn't  see  it,"  said  Phronsie,  a  bit 
reproachfully,  as  she  gently  smoothed  the  front 
breadth  of  mull. 

"  Forgive  me,  dear,"  begged  Polly.  "  Well, 
what  is  it,  Pet  ?  Do  tell  me ;  for  I'm  dying  of 
curiosity,  as  the  Salisbury  girls  say." 

Phronsie  stood  up  on  tiptoe,  and  achieved 
Polly's  ear. 

"  Who  do  you  think  is  coming  to-night  ? " 
she  whispered  impressively. 

"  To-night  ?  Oh,  dear  me !  I  can't  possibly 
guess,"  said  Polly,  beginning  to  think  that  this 
one  evening  of  all  the  year  held  supreme  mo- 
ments for  her.  "  Who  is  it,  Phronsie  ?  do  tell 
me  quickly." 

"  Well,"  said  Phronsie,  drawing  off  to  see  the 
surprised  delight  sure  to  come  on  Polly's  face, 
"  it's  Jasper  himself." 

"  Not  Jasper  ?  "  exclaimed  Polly,  quite  gone 
with  joy.  "Oh,  Phronsie  Pepper,  you  can't 
mean  that?" 


22  POLLY    GIVES    MUSIC    LESSONS. 

"But  I  do,"  said  Phronsie,  forgetting  her 
age,  to  hop  up  and  down  on  the  rug,  "  we've  a 
letter  while  you  were  at  the  school,  and  I 
wasn't  to  tell  you  suddenly,  so  I  put  on  one  of 
my  nice  gowns,  so  you  would  know." 

"  But  how  could  I  possibly  suppose  that 
Jasper  would  come  now,"  cried  Polly,  seizing 
Phronsie's  hands  to  execute  one  of  the  old-time 
dances.  "  Now  I  almost  know  he  is  going  to 
stay  over  Christmas." 

"He  is  —  he  is!"  cried  Phronsie  in  a  little 
scream ;  "  you've  guessed  it,  Polly.  And  Mam- 
sie  said  —  she's  gone  down  town  with  Grand- 
papa; he's  going  to  get  tickets  for  the  con- 
cert to-night,  so  that  you  can  all  go  together, 
even  if  you  can't  sit  together,  and  she  said 
that"  — 

"  Oh,  Phronsie ! "  exclaimed  Polly  in  dismay 
and  she  stood  quite  still. 

«  Aren't  you  glad  ?  "  asked  Phronsie,  her  joy 
suddenly  hushed. 

"  And  I've  done  it  myself  —  spoiled  all  this 
loveliness,"  cried  Polly  passionately,  little  white 
lines  coming  around  her  mouth,  "  and  Jasper 
here!" 


POLLY    GIVES    MUSIC    LESSONS.  23 

«  Oh,  Polly,  Polly ! "  Phronsie  clasped  her 
gown  imploringly,  "  don't,  Polly." 

"I  just  won't  go  to  the  school,"  declared 
Polly  at  white  heat ;  "  I  don't  care  for  the  con- 
cert, but  I'll  send  a  note  over  to  say  that  I  am 
detained  at  home." 

"  What  is  it,  Polly  ? "  begged  Phronsie,  all 
sorts  of  dreadful  surmises  seizing  her,  "  do  tell 
me,  Polly,  won't  you  ?  " 

"  It's  —  nothing ;  you  wouldn't  understand, 
child,"  said  Polly  quickly.  "  There,  don't  ask." 

Phronsie  crept  away  in  a  grieved  fashion,  to 
be  presently  folded  into  Polly's  warm  arms. 
"  I'm  bad  to-day,  Phronsie  dear.  There,  Pet, 
now  you  are  all  right,  aren't  you?"  as  she 
hugged  her  close. 

"I  am,  if  you  are,  Polly,"  said  Phronsie 
doubtfully. 

"  Well,  I'm  all  right  now,"  said  Polly,  her 
brow  clearing;  "the  bad  has  gone  at  last,  I 
hope,  to  stay  away,  Phronsie.  Now  I  must 
hurry  and  eat  this  nice  luncheon  you've  fixed 
for  me  ;  "  and  she  sprang  toward  the  table. 

"Don't  you  want  to  write  a  note  first?" 
asked  Phronsie,  wondering  at  Polly's  strange 


24  POLLY    GIVES    MUSIC    LESSONS. 

mood,  and  following  her  to  the  table-edge,  "  you 
said  so." 

"No;  I've  given  it  up,"  said  Polly,  sitting 
down  and  beginning  on  her  chop  and  toast. 
"  Bless  you,  dear,  you've  given  me  an  orchid," 
glancing  down  between  her  mouthfuls  to  the 
bouquet  at  her  plate ;  "  you  should  have  saved 
them  all  for  Jasper." 

"  Turner  said  I  might  have  it,"  said  Phronsie 
triumphantly,  "and  I  knew  you'd  give  it  to 
Jasper,  so  it's  all  right." 

"  It  surely  shall  do  double  duty,"  said  Polly 
merrily,  with  a  tender  glance  for  the  orchid. 
"Well,  how's  Baby?" 

"He  is  very  nice,"  said  Phronsie,  with  a 
grown-up  air,  "  and  didn't  cry  a  bit  for  Mamsie. 
And  now  if  you  are  really  all  right,  Polly,  I'll 
go  up  to  the  nursery  and  loolc  at  him." 

"  So  I  would,"  said  Polly  approvingly.  "  Yes, 
I'm  all  right ;  see,  I'm  on  my  chop  No.  2." 

Phronsie  smiled  with  great  satisfaction  at 
this,  and  went  off.  At  a  quarter  of  seven, 
Polly,  in  a  storm  of  remonstrance  from  all  but 
one,  hurried  off  to  help  poor  Amy  Loughead 
through  her  Slough  of  Despond. 


POLLY    GIVES    MUSIC    LESSONS.  25 

Jasper  alone,  just  arrived  for  dinner,  was  the 
only  one  who  remained  silent  when  the  storm 
of  disapproval  broke  forth  over  Polly  and  her 
doings.  After  the  first  astonished  exclamation, 
he  had  absolutely  refused  to  say  anything  save 
"  Polly  knows  best." 

"  I  don't  know  how  to  thank  you,"  said  Polly 
out  in  the  wide  hall,  where  he  hurried  to  meet 
her,  as  she  ran  downstairs  with  her  plainest 
walking  things  on,  "for  I  don't  believe  they 
would  have  let  me  go.  I  never  saw  Mamsie 
feel  so,  Jasper."  And  now  Polly  could  not 
keep  the  tears  back. 

"  She'll  see  it  all  right  to-morrow,"  said  Jas- 
per soothingly. 

He  put  his  hand  out  and  grasped  hers,  as  in 
the  old  days  in  the  little  brown  house,  and 
Polly  answered  through  her  tears,  "  I  know, 
Jasper." 

And  then  the  maid  appearing,  who  was  to 
accompany  her  to  Miss  Salisbury's,  Polly  came 
out  from  her  tears,  and  said,  "I'm  ready, 
Barbara." 

"  You  are  not  needed,  Bai-bara,"  said  Jasper, 
reaching  up  for  his  top-coat  from  the  oaken  rack. 


26  POLLY    GIVES    MUSIC    LESSONS. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  ?  "  gasped  Polly, 
her  hand  on  the  door-knob,  and  glancing  back. 

"  Walk  over  with  you  to  that  center  of  cul- 
ture and  wisdom,"  said  Jasper  coolly,  close  be- 
side her  now,  his  hat  in  his  hand. 

"  O,  Jasper ! "  exclaimed  Polly  in  dismay, 
her  face  growing  quite  pale,  "  don't ;  you'll 
be  late  for  the  concert.  Barbara,  Barbara ! " 
Polly  looked  past  him  to  summon  the  departing 
maid. 

"  Barbara  is  a  good  girl,  and  understands  the 
duty  of  obedience,"  said  Jasper  laughingly. 
"  There's  no  help  for  it,  Polly ;  you  must  accept 
my  escort,"  and  he  opened  the  door. 

"  But  Grandpapa !  he  will  be  terribly  disap- 
pointed not  to  have  you  go  to  the  concert  with 
him,"  cried  Polly,  getting  down  the  steps  with 
a  dreadful  weight  at  her  heart. 

"  I  made  it  all  right  with  father,"  said  Jasper, 
"  as  soon  as  I  heard  of  your  plan  ;  and  Mr. 
Alstyne  is  on  his  way  over  to  take  my  place ;  at 
least  he  ought  to  be  in  response  to  my  note. 
Don't  worry,  Polly ;  come." 

"  Oh !  what  perfectly  elegant  seats,"  ex- 
claimed Alexia  Rhys,  waving  her  big  ostrich 


POLLY    GIVES    MUSIC    LESSONS.  27 

fan  contentedly,  and  sweeping  the  audience 
with  a  long  gaze.  "Everybody  is  here  to- 
night, Pickering." 

"  That's  not  so,"  said  Pickering  savagely,  and 
bestowing  a  thump  on  his  unoffending  opera  hat, 
already  reduced  to  the  smallest  possible  bulk. 

"  Don't  spoil  it,"  advised  Alexia  coolly,  with 
a  sidelong  gaze  at  his  face.  "  Well,  of  course 
I  mean  everybody  except  Polly ;  and  I'm  sure, 
Pickering,  it  isn't  my  fault  that  she  didn't  come ; 
Polly  always  was  queer  about  some  things." 

Pickering  did  not  answer,  but  bestowed  his 
glance  on  the  programme  in  his  hand. 

"And  now  she  is  queerer  than  ever,"  said 
Alexia,  glad  to  think  that  the  dainty  blue  affair 
on  her  head,  she  called  a  bonnet,  was  already 
doing  its  work,  as  she  heard  a  lady  in  the  seat 
back  of  them,  question  if  it  were  not  one  of 
the  newest  of  Madame  Marchaud's  creations. 
So  she  sat  more  erect,  and  played  nonchalantly 
with  her  fan.  "Yes,  and  it's  all  because  of 
those  dreadfully  horrid  music  lessons." 

Pickering  coughed,  and  rattled  his  pro- 
gramme ominously,  which  Alexia  pretended 
not  to  hear. 


28  POLLY    GIVES    MUSIC    LESSONS. 

"  Why  Mr.  King  lets  her  do  it,  I  can't  see," 
she  went  on. 

"  Do  stop,"  said  Pickering  shortly,  and  cast- 
ing a  nervous  glance  back  of  her  shoulder. 

"Never  mind  if  they  do  hear,"  said  Alexia 
sweetly,  "  all  the  better  ;  then  they'll  know  we 
don't  approve  of  her  doing  so,  at  any  rate." 

"  I  do  approve,"  said  Pickering,  his  face 
flaming,  "  if  she  wants  to ;  and  we've  got  to, 
any  way,  because  we  can't  help  ourselves.  I 
do  wish,  Alexia,  you  wouldn't  discuss  our 
friends  in  this  public  way." 

"  And  I  don't  think  it  is  a  very  sweet  thing 
to  invite  a  girl  to  a  concert,  and  then  get  up  a 
fight,"  said  Alexia,  back  at  him. 

"  Goodness  —  who's  fighting  ?  "  exclaimed 
Pickering  under  his  breath. 

"  You  are  —  I  wish  you  could  see  your  face  ; 
it's  as  black  as  a  thunder  cloud,"  said  Alexia, 
with  the  consciousness  that  her  own  was  as  calm 
as  a  June  morning.  "  And  I'm  sure  if  you  don't 
want  to  attract  people  to  our  conversation,  you 
might  at  least  look  a  little  pleasanter." 

Pickering  threw  two  or  three  nervous  glances 
on  either  side,  to  prove  her  words,  and  was  by 


POLLY    GIVES    MUSIC    LESSONS.  29 

no  means  reassured  to  see  the  countenance  of 
Billy  Harlow,  one  of  his  young  business  friends, 
across  the  aisle,  suffused  with  an  attempt  to 
appear  as  if  he  hadn't  been  a  witness  to  the  little 
by-play. 

"  Well,  I'm  morally  certain  I  won't  trouble 
you  with  another  invitation  to  a  concert,"  he 
said,  too  furious  to  quite  know  his  own  words. 

"  You  needn't,"  said  Alexia,  swinging  her 
fan  with  an  even  hand,  and  still  smiling  sweetly, 
this  time  including  in  it  Billy,  who  had  no  girl 
with  him.  "  I  really  could  endure  life  at  home 
better  than  this  bliss."  And  then  D' Albert 
came  on  the  stage,  and  it  was  the  proper  thing 
to  keep  quiet,  so  the  hostilities  died  down. 

Going  out  of  the  Opera  House,  Billy  Harlow 
ran  up  to  the  two.  "  Lovely  time  you've  had," 
he  said  on  Alexia's  side,  and  with  a  little 
grimace. 

"  Haven't  I  ?  "  said  Alexia  back  again,  with 
the  air  of  a  martyr.  Pickering  stalking  along 
by  her  side,  had  the  air  of  a  man  who  didn't 
care  what  was  being  said  about  him. 

"  Just  look  at  him  now,"  said  Alexia  softly, 
"  isn't  he  sweet  ?  And  fancy  my  bearing  it  for 


30  POLLY    GIVES    MUSIC   LESSONS. 

two  hours.  I  don't  think  any  other  girl  in  our 
set,  could." 

"  Why  didn't  Miss  Pepper  come  this  even- 
ing ?  "  asked  Mr.  Harlow  curiously ;  "  Pickering 
said  he'd  asked  her." 

"  Oh !  she  gave  it  up  to  help  some  girl,"  said 
Alexia  carelessly.  "  She's  the  music  teacher  at 
Miss  Salisbury's  school,  you  know." 

"  Oh !  is  she  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Harlow  innocently, 
forgetting  to  mention  the  daily  interviews  he 
sustained  with  his  sisters  Kitty  and  Grace 
who  were  "  Salisbury  girls,"  on  Miss  Pepper's 
movements. 

"  And  at  the  last  minute  he  asked  me  to  take 
her  place,"  said  Alexia  with  perfect  frankness, 
"  and  I  was  goose  enough  to  do  it." 

"  Isn't  Miss  Pepper  going  to  give  a  Recital 
pretty  soon  ? "  asked  Mr.  Harlow,  inciden- 
tally, as  they  worked  their  way  along  to  the 
entrance. 

"  Yes,  she  is,"  said  Alexia  sharply,  « at  the 
Exeter — we  can't  stop  her;  she  says  she's 
proud  to  do  it,  and  it  shows  the  girls'  wonder- 
ful ability;  and  all  that  sort  of  thing  —  and 
—  and  —  oh  dear  me!  after  she's  once  done 


POLLY    GIVES    MUSIC    LESSONS.  31 

that,  she'll  always  be  « Miss  Pepper  the  music 
teacher.'     Isn't  it  horrid  !  " 

"  I  believe  that  is  our  carriage,"  said  Picker- 
ing stiffly,  and  without  so  much  as  a  half-glance 
at  Billy.  "  Come,  Alexia." 


CHAPTER  H. 

GETTING    READY    FOR    CHRISTMAS. 

U  TJ  ABY  ought  to  have  a  Christmas  Tree," 

JD     said  Phronsie  slowly. 

"Ah  —  King- Fisher,  how  is  that?  Do  you 
want  a  Christmas  Tree  ?  "  Jasper  dropped  to 
all-fours  by  the  side  of  the  white  bundle  in  the 
center  of  the  library  rug,  as  he  propounded  the 
momentous  question. 

The  Baby  plunged  forward  and  buried  both 
fat  hands  in  the  crop  of  brown  hair  so  suddenly 
brought  to  his  notice. 

"  Is  that  the  way  to  show  your  acknowledg- 
ment, sir  ?  "  cried  Jasper,  springing  to  his  feet. 
Baby  and  all.  "Well,  there  you  go  — there, 
and  there,  and  there!"  tossing  the  white 
bundle  high  in  the  air. 

"  Goodness !  what  a  breeze  you  two  contrive 
to  raise,"  exclaimed  Joel ;  "  Mamsie,"  as  Mother 


GETTING    READY    FOR    CHRISTMAS.  33 

Fisher  put  her  head  in  the  doorway,  "the  little 
chap  is  getting  the  worst  of  it,  I  tell  you." 

"Joel's  jealous,"  said  Jasper,  writh  a  laugh. 
"Take  care,  King-Fisher,  that  really  is  my 
hair,  sir." 

Mrs.  Fisher  nodded  and  chuckled  to  the  baby, 
and  hurried  off. 

"  He  didn't  really  mean  to  pull  your  hair, 
Jasper,"  said  Phronsie  in  a  worried  way ;  and 
getting  up  from  the  floor  where  she  had  been 
deserted  by  the  baby,  she  hurried  over  to  the 
two  flying  around  in  the  center  of  the  room. 

"  But  he  does  pull  dreadfully,  though,"  said 
Polly,  laughing,  "  don't  you,  you  little  King !  " 
pinching  Baby's  toes  as  Jasper  spun  him  past  hei . 

"  My  goodness !  "  exclaimed  Mr.  King,  com- 
ing in  the  opposite  doorway,  "  I  should  think 
it  was  a  menagerie  here !  What's  the  matter, 
Phronsie  ?  " 

"  Baby  is  pulling  Jasper's  hair,"  said  Phronsie 
slowly,  and  revolving  around  the  two  dancers, 
"  but  he  really  doesn't  mean  to,  Grandpapa." 

"  Oh !  I  hope  he  does,"  said  old  Mr.  King 
cheerfully,  coming  in  and  sitting  down  in  his 
favorite  chair.  "I'm  sure  it  speaks  well  for 


84  GETTING    READY    FOR    CHRISTMAS. 

the  young  man's  powers  of  self-defense,  if  he 
gives  Jasper  a  good  tweak." 

"  Father ! "  cried  Jasper  in  pretended  aston 
ishment.  "Well,  King- Fisher,  as  popular 
opinion  is  against  me,  I'll  set  you  down  again, 
and  nurse  my  poor  scalp,"  and  down  went  the 
white  bundle  again  to  the  floor,  Phronsie  go- 
ing back  to  her  post  as  nurse. 

"  There's  been  a  terrible  scheme  worked  up 
since  you  were  out,  sir,"  announced  Joel  to 
the  old  gentleman. 

"  Hey —  what's  that?"  demanded  Mr.  King, 
staring  at  Polly. 

"Oh !  it  isn't  Polly  this  time,"  said  Joel  with 
a  laugh.  "Generally  it  is  Polly  that  sets  all 
dreadful  things  going ;  but  this  time,  it  is  some 
other  ringleader." 

"  Then  I  am  sure  I  sha'n't  approve  if  Polly 
isn't  in  it,"  declared  the  old  gentleman  flatly. 

"But  I  am  in  it,  Grandpapa,"  Polly  made 
haste  to  say.  "  I  think  it  is  very,  very  nice." 

"  That  alters  the  case,"  said  Mr.  King.  "  So 
what  is  it,  Joe  ?  Out  with  it." 

"It's  nothing  more  nor  less  than  to  upset 
this  house  from  top  to  bottom,"  said  Joel,  "  and 


GETTING    READY    FOR    CHRISTMAS.  37 

get  up  a  dreadful  howling,  tearing  Christmas 
Tree." 

"  Oh,  Joe  Pepper ! "  ejaculated  Polly  re- 
proachfully, "  and  you've  always  had  such  fun 
over  our  Christmas  Trees.  How  can  you ! " 

"  It's  for  J3aby,"  cried  Phronsie,  with  a  pink 
flush  on  her  cheek.  "He's  never  seen  one, 
you  know,  Grandpapa." 

"  No,  I  should  think  not,"  said  the  old  gentle- 
man, looking  down  at  the  white  bundle.  "  Well, 
and  so  you  want  a  Christmas  Tree  for  him, 
Phronsie  child?" 

"  I  think  we  ought  to  have  one,"  said  Phron- 
sie, "because  you  know,  he's  never,  never  seen 
one.  And  we  all  have  had  so  many  beautiful 
Trees,  Grandpapa." 

"  To  be  sure,  to  be  sure,"  said  Mr.  King. 
"  Well  now,  Phronsie  child,  come  here  and  tell 
me  all  about  it,"  and  he  held  out  his  hand. 

Phronsie  cast  an  anxious  glance  at  the 
bundle.  "Can  I  leave  him,  Grandpapa?"  she 
asked. 

"  Leave  him  ?  Mercy,  yes ;  it  does  babies 
good  to  be  left  alone.  He'll  suck  his  thumbs 
or  his  toes." 


38  GETTING    READY    FOR    CHRISTMAS. 

"  I'll  stay  with  him,"  said  Polly,  running  out 
of  her  corner  to  get  on  her  knees  before  the  baby. 
"  There  now,  sir,  do  you  know  what  a  blessed  old 
care  you  are  ?  "  smothering  him  with  kisses. 

"Yes,  I  really  think  we  ought  to  have  a 
(  In  istmas  Tree,"  Phronsie  was  saying, "  Grand- 
papa dear,"  huddling  up  against  his  waistcoat 
as  usual. 

"  Then  we  surely  will  have  one,"  declared 
old  Mr.  King,  "so  that  is  settled.  Do  you 
hear,  young  people,"  raising  his  voice,  "  or  does 
that  little  scamp  of  a  baby  take  all  your  ears  ? " 

"  We  hear,  Grandpapa,"  said  Polly  from  the 
floor,  "  and  I'm  very  glad.  It  will  be  good  fun 
to  get  up  a  Christmas  Tree." 

"  Seeing  you  never  have  had  that  pleasing 
employment,"  said  Jasper  sotto  voce,  on  the 
rug  before  the  fire. 

"Never  mind;  it'll  be  just  as  good  fun 
again,"  said  Polly. 

"  And  not  a  bit  of  work  —  oh,  no ! " 

"Don't  throw  cold  water  on  it,"  begged 
Polly  under  her  breath,  while  the  baby  scram- 
bled all  over  her,  "  don't,  Jasper ;  Phronsie  has 
set  her  heart  on  it." 


GETTING    READY    FOR    CHRISTMAS.  39 

"  All  right ;  but  I  thought  you  wanted  every 
bit  of  time  to  get  ready  for  your  Recital,  and 
the  other  things ;  and  then,  besides,  there's 
Phronsie's  performance  down  at  Dunraven." 

"  Well,  so  I  did,"  confessed  Polly,  with  a 
sigh,  "  but  I  can  get  the  time  some  way." 

"  Out  of  '  the  other  things,' "  said  Jasper 
grimly.  "  Polly,  you'll  have  no  fun  from  the 
holidays.  It  isn't  too  late  to  stop  this  now." 
He  darted  over  toward  his  father. 

"  Jasper !  "  cried  Polly  imploringly. 

"What  is  it,  my  boy?"  asked  Mr.  King, 
quite  deep  in  the  plans  for  the  Tree,  Joel  having 
added  himself  to  their  company. 

"  Oh,  nothing ;  Polly  wants  it,  and  we  must 
make  it  a  good  one,"  said  Jasper,  rather  inco- 
herently, and  beginning  to  retreat. 

"  Of  course  it  will  be  a  good  one,"  said  his 
father,  a  trifle  testily,  "if  we  have  it  at  all. 
When  did  we  ever  get  up  a  poor  Tree,  pray 
tell?" 

Polly  drew  a  relieved  breath,  and  gathering 
the  baby  up  in  her  arms,  she  hurried  over  to 
the  old  gentleman's  chair  with  a  "  Now  when 
do  you  want  to  have  the  Tree,  Phronsie  ?  " 


40  GETTING    READY    FOR    CHRISTMAS. 

"  Must  we  have  it  Christinas  Day  ? "  asked 
Phronsie,  looking  at  her  anxiously. 

"Christmas  Day?  Dear  me,  no!  Why, 
what  would  the  Dunraven  children  do,  Phron- 
sie, if  you  took  that  day  away  from  them  ? " 
cried  old  Mr.  King  in  astonishment. 

Phronsie  turned  slowly  back  to  him.  "I 
thought  perhaps  .we  ought  to  let  Baby  have 
the  Tree  Christmas  Day,"  she  said. 

"  No,  indeed,"  again  said  Mr.  King.  "  Come 
here,  you  little  scamp,"  catching  the  baby  out 
of  Polly's  hand,  to.  set  him  on  his  other  knee  ; 
"  there  now,  speak  up  like  a  man,  and  tell  your 
sister  that  you  are  not  particular  about  the 
time  you  have  your  Tree." 

"  Ar  —  goo !  "  said  the  Fisher  baby. 

"  That's  it,"  said  the  old  gentleman  with  ap- 
proval, while  the  others  shouted.  "  So  now, 
as  long  as  your  brother  says  so,  Phronsie, 
why,  I  should  have  your  Tree  the  day  before 
Christmas." 

"  Oh,  Polly  wants  to  go  "  —  began  Jasper. 

"  Ugh ! "  cried  Polly  warningly  to  him. 
"  Yes,  Phronsie ;  you  much  better  have  it  the 
day  before,  as  Grandpapa  says." 


GETTING    READY    FOB    CHRISTMAS.  41 

"  And  you  don't  suppose  Baby  will  feel  badly 
afterwards  when  lie  gets  bigger,  and  cry  be- 
cause we  didn't  give  him  Christmas  Day,"  said 
Phronsie,  "  do  you,  Grandpapa  ?  " 

"Indeed,  I  don't,"  declared  the  old  gentle- 
man, pinching  the  set  of  pink  toes  nearest  to 
his  hand ;  "  if  he  does,  why,  we'll  all  let  him 
know  what  we  think  of  such«conduct." 

"  Then,"  said  Phronsie,  clasping  her  hands, 
"  I  should  very  much  rather  not  take  Christmas 
Day  from  the  Dunraven  children,  because  you 
know,  Grandpapa,  they  expect  it." 

"Of  course  they  do,"  said  old  Mr.  King. 
"  Bless  me !  why,  we  shouldn't  know  it  was 
Christmas  at  all,  if  we  didn't  go  down  to  Bed- 
ford and  carry  it ;  and  as  for  those  children  " 

The  picture  that  this  brought  up,  of  Dunra- 
ven without  a  Christmas,  threw  such  a  shadow 
over  Phronsie's  face,  that  Polly  hastened  to 
say  reassuringly : 

"  Oh,  Grandpapa !  we  wouldn't  ever  think  of 
not  carrying  a  Christmas  to  Dunraven,  would 
we,  Pet?"  and  she  threw  her  arms  around 
Phronsie. 

c;  Of  course  not,"  chimed  in  Jasper  and  Joel, 


42  GETTING    READY    FOR    CHRISTMAS. 

in  a  way  to  bring  back  the  smiles  to  the  little 
downcast  face. 

And  the  baby  crowed,  and  seized  Phronsie's 
floating  yellow  hair  with  both  hands,  and  they 
all  got  in  one  another's  way  to  rescue  it ; .  and 
Mrs.  Pepper  hurried  in  again,  this  time  for 
Baby ;  and  he  was  kissed  all  around,  Phronsie 
giving  him  two  for  fear  he  might  think  she  was 
hurt ;  and  one  of  the  maids  popped  in  with 
"  There  is  a  gentleman  in  the  reception  room 
to  see  Miss  Mary." 

Jasper  turned  off  with  an  impatient  gesture. 

"I  do  suppose  it  is  Mr.  Longhead,"  said 
Polly,  "  for  he  wanted  to  come  some  time  and 
talk  about  Amy.  O,  dear !  I  hope  I  shall  say 
the  right  thing." 

"  Doesn't  the  fellow  know  better  than  to  come 
when  we  are  home  for  the  Christmas  holidays  ?  " 
grumbled  Joel.  Jasper  looked  as  if  he  could 
say  as  much,  but  instead,  walked  to  the  window, 
and  looked  out  silently. 

"  He's  very  anxious  about  Amy,"  said  Polly, 
running  off  to  the  door,  where  she  paused  and 
looked  back  for  sympathy  toward  her  little 
protegee. 


GETTING    READY    FOB    CHRISTMAS.  43 

"  I  should  think  he  would  be,"  grunted  Joel ; 
"  she's  a  goose,  and  beside  that,  she  doesn't  know 
anything." 

"  O*  Joe  !  she  hasn't  any  father  nor  mother," 
cried  Polly  in  distress. 

Joel  gave  an  inaudible  reply,  and  Polly  ran 
off,  carrying  a  face  on  which  the  sunshine  strug- 
gled to  get  back  to  its  accustomed  place. 

"  Beg  pardon  for  troubling  you,"  said  a  tall 
young  man,  getting  off  from  the  divan  to  meet 
her,  as  she  hurried  into  the  reception  room, 
"  but  you  were  good  enough  to  say  that  I 
might  talk  with  you  about  my  sister,  and  really 
I  am  very  much  at  sea  to  know  what  to  do  with 
her,  Miss  Pepper." 

It  was  a  long  speech,  and  at  the  end  of  ifr, 
Polly  and  the  caller  were  seated,  she  in  a  big 
chair,  and  he  back  on  the  divan  opposite  to  her. 

"  I  am  glad  to  see  you,  Mr.  Loughead,"  said 
Polly  brightly,  "  and  I  hope  I  can  help  you,  for 
I  am  very  fond  of  Amy." 

"  It's  good  of  you  to  say  so,"  said  Jack  Loug- 
head, "  for  she's  a  trying  little  minx  enough,  I 
suspect;  and  Miss  Salisbury  tells  me  you've 
had  no  end  of  trouble  with  her." 


44  GETTING    READY    FOR    CHRISTMAS. 

"Miss  Salisbury  shouldn't  say  that,"  cried 
Polly  involuntarily.  Then  she  stopped  with  a 
blush.  "  I  mean,  I  don't  think  she  quite  under- 
stands it.  Amy  does  really  try  hard  to  study." 

"Oh!"  said  Jack  Loughead.  Then  he 
tapped  his  boot  with  his  walking-stick. 

"  So  you  really  think  my  sister  will  amount 
to  something,  Miss  Pepper?"  He  looked  at 
her  keenly. 

Polly  started.  "  Oh,  yes,  indeed  !  Why,  she 
must,  Mr.  Loughead." 

He  laughed,  and  bit  his  moustache. 

"  And  really,  I  don't  think  that  Amy  is  quite 
understood,"  said  Polly  warmly,  and  forgetting 
herself ;  "  if  people  believe  in  her,  it  makes  her 
want  to  do  things  to  please  them." 

"She  says  herself  she  has  bothered  you 
dreadfully,"  said  Jack,  with  a  vicious  thrust  of 
the  walking-stick  at  his  boot. 

"  She  has  a  little,"  confessed  Polly,  "  biit  not 
dreadfully.  And  I  do  think,  Mr.  Loughead, 
now  that  you  have  come,  and  that  she  sees  how 
much  you  want  her  to  study  and  practice,  she 
will  really  do  better.  I  do,  indeed,"  said  Polly 
earnestly. 


GETTING    READY    FOR   CHRISTMAS. 


45 


Outside  she  could  hear  the  "two  boys,"  as 
she  still  called  them,  and  Grandpapa's  voice  in 
animated  consultation  over  the  ways  and  means, 
she  knew  as  well  as  if  she  were  there,  of  spend- 
ing the  holidays,  and  it  seemed  as  if  she  could 


"  OH  !  "    SAID  JACK    LOUGHEAD.      THEN  HE  TAPPED  HIS 
BOOT    WITH    HIS  WALKING  STICK. 

never  sit  in  the  reception  room  another  moment 
longer,  but  that  she  must  fly  out  to  them. 

"  Amy  has  no  mother,"  said  Jack  Loughead 
after  a  moment,  and  he  turned  away  his  head, 
and  pretended  to  look  out  of  the  window. 

"  I  know  it."  Polly's  heart  leaped  guiltily. 
Oh !  how  could  she  think  of  holidays  and  good 


46  GETTING    READY    FOR   CHRISTMAS. 

times,  while  this  poor  little  girl,  but  fifteen,  had 
only  a  dreary  sense  of  boarding-school  life  to 
mean  home  to  her.  "And  oh!  I  do  think," 
Polly  hastened  to  say,  and  she  clasped  her 
hands  as  Phronsie  would  have  done,  "  it  has 
made  all  the  difference  in  the  world  to  her. 
And  she  does  just  lovely  —  so  much  better,  I 
mean,  than  other  girls  would  in  her  place.  I 
do  really,  Mr.  Loughead,"  repeated  Polly. 

"  And  no  sister,"  added  Jack,  as  if  to  himself. 
"  How  is  a  fellow  like  me  —  why,  I  am  twenty- 
five,  Miss  Pepper,  and  I've  been  knocking  about 
the  world  ever  since  I  was  her  age ;  my  uncle 
took  me  then  to  Australia,  into  his  business  — 
how  am  I  ever  to  '  understand,'  as  you  call  it, 
that  girl?" 

It  was  impossible  not  to  see  his  distress,  and 
Polly,  with  a  deaf  ear  to  the  chatter  out  in  the 
library,  now  bent  all  her  energies  to  helping  him. 

"  Mr.  Loughead,"  she  said,  and  the  color  de- 
serted her  round  cheek,  and  she  leaned  forward 
from  the  depths  of  the  big  chair,  "  I  am  afraid 
you  won't  like  what  I  am  going  to  say." 

"  Go  on,  please,"  said  Jack,  his  eyes  on  her 
face. 


HEADY  FOR  CHRISTMAS.        47 


"  I  think  if  you  want  to  understand  Amy," 
said  Polly,  holding  her  hands  very  tightly  to- 
gether, to  keep  her  courage  up,  "  you  must  love 
her  first." 

"  Hey  ?  I  don't  understand,"  said  Jack,  quite 
bewildered. 

"  You  must  love  her,  and  believe  she's  going 
to  do  nice  things,  and  be  proud  of  her,"  went 
on  Polly  steadily. 

"How  can  I?  She's  such  a  little  beggar," 
exclaimed  Jack,  "  won't  study,  and  all  that." 

"  And  you  must  make  her  the  very  best  friend 
you  have  in  all  this  world,  and  let  her  see  that 
you  are  glad  that  she  is  your  sister,  and  tell  her 
things,  and  never,  never  scold."  Then  Polly 
stopped,  and  the  color  flew  up  to  the  waves  of 
brown  hair  on  her  brow. 

"I  wish  you'd  go  on,"  said  Jack  Loughead, 
as  she  paused. 

"  Oh  !  I've  said  enough,"  said  Polly,  .with  a 
gasp,  and  beginning  to  wish  she  could  be  any- 
where out  of  the  range  of  those  great  black 
eyes.  "  Do  forgive  me,"  she  begged  ;  "  I  didn't 
mean  to  say  anything  to  hurt  you." 

Jack  Loughead  got  up  and  straightened  him- 


48  GETTING    READY    FOR    CHRISTMAS. 

self.  "  I'm  much  obliged  to  you,  Miss  Pepper," 
he  said.  "I  think  I'm  more  to  blame  than 
Amy,  poor  child." 

"No,  no,"  cried  Polly,  getting  out  of  her 
chair,  "  I  didn't  mean  so,  indeed  I  didn't,  Mr. 
Loughead.  Oh!  what  have  I  said?  I  think 
you  have  done  beautifully.  How  could  you 
help  things  when  you  were  not  here?  Oh! 
Mr.  Loughead,  I  do  hope  you  will  forgive  me. 
I  have  only  made  matters  worse,  I'm  afraid," 
and  poor  Polly's  face  drooped. 

Jack  Loughead  turned  with  a  sudden  gesture. 
"Perhaps  you'll  believe  me  when  I  say  I've 
never  had  anything  do  me  so  much  good  in  all 
my  life,  as  what  you  said." 

"What  are  those  two  talking  about  all  this 
unconscionable  time,"  Joel  was  now  exclaim- 
ing in  the  library,  as  he  glanced  up  at  the 
clock.  "I  could  finish  that  Amy  Loughead  in 
the  sixteenth  of  a  minute." 

Old  Mr.  King  turned  uneasily  in  his  chair. 
"Who  is  this  young  Loughead?"  he  asked  of 
Jasper. 

Jasper,  seeing  that  an  answer  was  expected 
of  him,  drew  himself  up,  and  said  quickly, 


GETTING    BEADY    FOR    CHRISTMAS.  49 

"Oh!  he's  the  brother  of  that  girl  at  the 
Salisbury  School,  father.  You  know  Polly 
goes  over  there  to  help  her  practice." 

"  Ah !  "  -  said  his  father,  "  well,  what  is  he 
doing  here  this  morning,  pray  tell  ?  " 

"  That's  what  I  should  like  to  know,"  chimed 
in  Joel. 

"Well,  last  evening,"  said  Jasper,  with  an 
effort  to  make  things  right  for  Polly,  "  he  was 
there  when  they  were  playing,  and  he  seemed 
quite  put  out  at  his  sister." 

"  Don't  wonder,"  said  Joel ;  "  everybody  says 
she's  a  silly." 

"And  Polly  tried  to  help  Amy,  and  make 
the  best  of  her.  And  the  brother  asked  if  he 
might  have  a  talk  some  time  about  his  sister. 
Polly  couldn't  help  telling  him  'yes,'"  said 
Jasper,  but  with  a  pang  at  the  handsome 
stranger's  delight  as  she  said  it. 

"  A  bad  business,"  said  the  old  gentleman 
irritably.  "  We  do  not  want  your  Lougheads 
coming  here  and  taking  up  our  time." 

"  Of  course  not,"  declared  Joel. 

"  And  I  suppose  he  is  an  idle  creature.  Polly 
said  something  about  his  traveling  a  good 


50  (JETTING    READY    FOR    CHRISTMAS. 

deal.     It's  a  very  bad  business,"  repeated  Mr. 

King. 

"  Oh !  he's  all  right  in  a  business  way,"  said 
Jasper,  feeling  angry  enough  at  himself  that  he 
was  sorry  at  Jack  Loughead's  success.  "  He 
has  to  travel ;  he's  a  member  of  the  Bradbury 
and  Graeme  Company." 

"  The  Sydney,  Australia,  house  ?  "  asked  Mr. 
King  in  a  surprised  tone.  "  So  you've  looked 
him  up,  have  you,  Jasper  ?  " 

"  Oh !  I  happened  to  run  across  Hibbard  Crane 
yesterday,"  said  Jasper  carelessly,  "  and  he  gave 
me  a  few  facts.  That's  about  all  I  know,  father." 

And  in  came  Polly,  looking  like  a  rose ;  and 
following  her  a  tall  young  man,  with  large, 
black  eyes,  whom  she  immediately  led  up  to  Mr. 
King's  chair.  "  Grandpapa,"  she  said,  "  this  is 
Mr.  Loughead,  Amy's  brother,  you  know  "- 

And  Jasper  went  forward  and  put  out  his 
hand,  as  an  old  acquaintance  of  the  evening 
before,  and  Joel  was  introduced,  and  mumbled 
something  about  "  Glad  to  know  you,"  immedi- 
ately retreating  into  the  corner,  and  then  there 
was  a  pause,  which  Polly  broke  by  crying  :  "  O, 
Grandpapa !  I  am  going  to  ask  Amy  to  play  at 


GETTING   READY    FOE   CHRISTMAS.  51 

Dun  raven  for  Phronsie's  poor  children.  Why, 
where  is  Phronsie  ?  "  looking  around  the  room. 

"  Oh !  she  went  out  a  little  while  after  Baby's 
exit,"  said  Jasper,  trying  to  speak  lightly. 

"Mr.  Loughead  thinks  she'd  do  it,  if  I 
asked  her,"  Polly  went  on  in  her  brightest 
way.  "  Now,  that  will  be  lovely,  and  the 
children  will  enjoy  it  so  much." 

"  Isn't  there  anything  I  could  do  ?  "  asked  Jack 
Loughead,  after  the  Dunraven  entertainment 
had  been  a  bit  discussed. 

Mr.  King  bowed  his  courtly  old  head.  "  I 
don't  believe  there  is  anything.  You  are  very 
kind,  I'm  sure." 

"  Don't  speak  of  kindness,  sir,"  he  said.  "  My 
time  hangs  heavy  on  my  hands  just  now." 

"  He  would  like  to  be  with  his  sister,"  said 
Jasper,  after  a  glance  at  Polly's  face,  and  guilty 
of  an  aside  to  his  father. 

"  Oh !  —  yes,"  said  Mr.  King,  "  to  be  sure. 
Well,  Mr.  Loughead,  and  what  would  you  like 
to  do  for  these  poor  children  of  Phronsie's, 
Christmas-  Day?  We  shall  be  very  glad  of 
your  assistance." 

"  I  could  bring  out  a  stereopticon,"  said  Jack ; 


52  GETTING   READY   FOE   CHRISTMAS. 

"  no  very  new  idea,  but  I've  a  few  pictures  of 
places  I've  seen,  and  maybe  the  children  would 
like  it  for  a  half-hour  or  so." 

"  Capital,  capital,"  pronounced  the  old  gentle- 
man quite  as  if  he  had  proposed  it.  And  before 
any  one  knew  how  it  had  come  about,  there 
was  Jack  Loughead  talking  over  the  run  down 
to  Bedford  with  them  all  on  Christmas  morning, 
as  a  matter  of  course,  and  as  if  it  had  been  the 
annual  affair  to  him,  that  it  was  to  all  the  others. 

u  Quite  a  fine  young  man,"  said  Mr.  King, 
when  Jack  had  at  last  run  off  with  a  bright 
smile  and  word  for  all,  "  and  Phronsie  will  be 
so  pleased  to  think  of  his  doing  all  this  for  her 
poor  children.  Bless  her!  Well,  David,  my 
man,  are  you  back  so  soon  ?  " 

"  So  soon,  Grandpapa  ?  "  cried  David,  hurry- 
ing in  from  a  morning  down  town  with  another 
"  Harvard  Fresh."  also  home  for  the  holidays. 
"  Why,  it  is  luncheon  time." 

"  Impossible ! "  exclaimed  old  Mr.  King,  pull- 
ing out  his  watch.  "  Er  —  bless  me !  the  boy 
is  right.  Now,  Polly,  my  child,  you  and  I  must 
put  off  our  engagement  till  afternoon.  Then 
we'll  have  our  Christmasing  !  " 


CHAPTER  III. 

CHRISTMAS    AT    DTHSTRAVEN. 

UpRANDPAPA,"   cried   Phronsie,    flying 
VJ      down  the  platform,  "  the  box  of  dolls 
isn't  here !  " 

"  Goodness  me ! "  exclaimed  old  Mr.  King, 
whirling  around,  "'tisn't  possible,  child,  that 
we've  come  off  without  that.  It  must  be  with 
the  other  luggage." 

"  O,  no,  Grandpapa  dear  ! "  declared  Phron- 
sie in  great  distress,  and  clasping  her  hands  to 
keep  the  tears  back,  "it  really,  surely  hasn't 
come  ;  Polly  says  so." 

"  Well,  then,  if  Polly  says  so,  it  must  have 
been  left  at  home,"  said  the  old  gentleman, 
"  and  there's  no  use  in  my  going  to  look  over 
the  luggage,"  he  groaned. 

"What's   the   matter?"  cried  Joel,  rushing 
up,  his  jolly  face  aglow. 
53 


54  CHRISTMAS    AT    DUNRAVEN. 

"  The  worst  thing  that  could  possibly  hap- 
pen," said  Mr.  King  irritably ;  "  Phronsie's  box 
of  dolls  is  left  behind."  Then  he  began  to 
fume  up  and  down  the  platform,  wholly  lost  to 
everything  but  his  indignation. 

"  Whew ! "  ejaculated  Joel,  "  that  is  a  miss ! " 
and  he  looked  down  at  Phronsie,  but  her  broad 
hat  had  drooped,  the  brown  eyes  seeking  the 
platform  floor.  "  See  here,  Phronsie." 

Phronsie  didn't  speak  for  a  breathing-space. 
"  What  is  it,  Joey  ?  "  then  she  said,  not  looking 
up. 

"I'll  go  back  after  it;  don't  you  worry, 
child." 

"  Oh,  but  you  can't,"  cried  Phronsie,  throw- 
ing her  head  back  quickly,  "the  train  will 
come,  and  then  you  won't  be  here." 

"  I'll  take  the  next  train ;  of  course  I  can't 
get  back  for  this,"  said  Joel,  swallowing  hard. 
"I'll  bring  the  box  all  right,"  and  he  dashed 
off. 

"  Joel  —  oh,  Joel ! "  cried  Phronsie,  running 
after  him,  "  don't  go  !  "  she  implored. 

"  Here !  here !  what's  the  matter  ?  "  cried  old 
Mr.  King,  forgetting  his  indignation  to  hurry 


CHRISTMAS    AT    DUNRAVEN.  55 

after  her.    "  Phronsie,  wait ;  what  is  it,  dear  ?  " 

"  Joel's  gone,"  panted  Phronsie,  flying  back, 
her  broad  hat  falling  off  to  her  shoulders,  "  oh, 
do  stop  him,  Grandpapa  dear !  I'd  rather  not 
take  the  dolls  than  to  have  Joel  left." 

"  Stop  him  ?  I  can't.  Bless  me,  here  —  some- 
body ! "  turning  off  to  the  little  knots  of  his 
party  scattered  over  the  platform,  "  where  are 
you  all?" 

Polly  came  running  up  at  this,  with  a  pale 
face.  "  Oh,  Grandpapa ! "  she  began  at  sight 
of  him. 

"Joel's  gone  home,"  announced  Phronsie, 
clasping  her  hands  in  distress,  "  after  the  box 
of  dolls,  and  " 

"  Joel's  gone  home ! "  echoed  Polly,  standing 
quite  still. 

"  Yes,"  said  Phronsie,  "  oh,  Polly,  do  stop 
him  and  bring  him  back." 

"  She  can't,"  cried  the  old  gentleman  ;  "  that 
boy's  legs  have  carried  him  half  over  the  town 
by  this  time.  Nobody  could  stop  him,  child." 

And  then,  most  of  the  little  knots  heard  the 
commotion,  and  came  hurrying  up  with  "  What 
is  it  ?  "  and  "  Oh  dear,  what's  the  matter  ?  "  in 


56 


CHRISTMAS    AT    DUNRAVEN. 


time  to  hear  Polly  groan,  "  And  Joe  thought 
so  much  of  going  down  to  Dunraven  with  us!" 


"JOEL'S   GONE,"    PANTED    PHKON8IK,    FLYING   BACK. 

"  Well,  where  is  he  ?  "  cried  Jasper,  whirling 
around  to  look  in   all  directions ;   while   Ben 


CHRISTMAS    AT    DUNRAVEN.  57 

took  a  few  long  sti-ides  to  peer  around  the 
station,  and  David  and  the  other  "  Harvard 
Fresh."  who  had  been  invited  to  keep  him 
company,  ran,  one  up,  and  the  other  down,  the 
long  platform. 

"  See  here  now,"  shouted  old  Mr.  King  so 
sharply  that  all  the  flying  feet  were  arrested 
at  once,  "every  one  of  you  come  back !  Good- 
ness me,  the  idea  of  the  Bedford  party  being 
scattered  to  the  four  winds  in  this  fashion  ! " 

"I'd  help  if  I  could,"  said  Mr.  Hamilton 
Dyce,  "but  I  really  don't  know  what  it's  all 
about  yet." 

"  Oh  dear  — dear  !  "  Polly  was  yet  wailing. 
Then  she  remembered,  and  threw  her  arms 
around  Phronsie  who  was  standing  quite  still 
by  her  side.  "  Phronsie,  precious  pet,"  and  she 
picked  up  her  pretty  stuff  gown  to  kneel  on 
the  platform-floor  to  look  into  the  little  face, 
"  don't  feel  badly,  dear.  Joel  will  come  on  the 
next  train." 

"But  he  won't  be  with  us,"  said  Phronsie 
slowly,  and  turning  her  brown  eyes  piteously 
to  Polly. 

"  I  know  it,"  Polly  smothered  a  sigh,  "  but 


58  CHRISTMAS    AT    DUNRAVEN'. 

we  can't  help  it  now.  Grandpapa  is  feeling 
dreadfully;  oh,  Phronsie,  you  wouldn't  make 
him  sick,  dear,  for  all  the  world  !  " 

Phronsie  unclasped  her  hands,  and  went  un- 
steadily over  to  the  old  gentleman.  "Joel  will 
come  on  the  next  train,  Grandpapa,"  she  said. 

"  Bless  me,  yes,  of  course,"  said  Mr.  King, 
seizing  her  hand ;  "  I  don't  see  what  we  are 
making  such  a  fuss  for.  He'll  come  on  the 
next  train." 

"  What's  the  riot  ? "  asked  Livingston  Bay- 
ley,  sauntering  up,  and  whirling  his  walking- 
stick,  «  eh  ?  " 

"  Joel's  absconded,"  said  Mr.  Dyce  briefly. 

«Eh?" 

"  Gone  back  after  Phrousie's  box  of  dolls," 
explained  somebody  else. 

"  Oh  dear  me,"  cried  Alexia  Rhys,  trying  to 
get  near  Polly,  "  just  like  that  boy."  She  still 
called  him  that,  in  spite  of  his  being  a  Harvard 
man,  "  He's  always  making  some  sort  of  a  fuss." 

"  Perhaps  the  train  will  be  late,"  suggested 
Mrs.  Dyce,  who,  as  Mary  Taylor,  never  could 
bear  to  see  Phronsie  unhappy.  "  Hamilton,  if 
you  don't  do  something  to  help  that  child,  I 


CHRISTMAS    AT    DUNRAVEX.  59 

shall  be  sorry  T  married  you,"  she  whispered 
in  her  husband's  ear. 

,    "  Late  ?  it's  late  already,"  said  Ben,  pulling 
out  his  watch,  "  it's  five  minutes  past  time." 

"  Well,  it  may  be  our  luck  to  have  it  late 
enough,"  said  Jasper,  with  a  glance  at  Polly, 
"  as  it's  Christmas  day  and  a  big  train ;  so  he  may 
possibly  get  here  —  he'll  find  a  cabby  that  can 
make  good  time,"  he  added,  with  a  forlorn  at- 
tempt at  comfort. 

Jack  Loughead  sauntered  up  and  down,  on 
the  edge  of  the  group,  longing  to  be  of  service, 
but  feeling  himself  too  new  a- friend  to  offer 
his  sympathy. 

"  Who  the  Dickens  is  that  cad  ?  "  asked  Mr. 
Bayley  in  smothered  wrath,  to  Mrs.  Dyce. 

"  Why,  don't  you  know  ?  He's  another 
friend  of  Polly's,"  said  Mary  Taylor  Dyce,  smil- 
ing up  sweetly  into  his  face,  "  and  he's  going 
down  to  help  entertain  Phronsie's  poor  chil- 
dren. Isn't  he  nice  ?" 

"  Nice  ?  "  repeated  Livingston  Bayley  with  a 
black  look  at  the  tall  figure  stalking  on.  "  How 
do  I  know  ?  Who  is  the  fellow,  any  way  ?  " 

But  there  was  no  time  to  reply. 


GO  CHRISTMAS    AT    DUNRAVKN. 

"  Here  comes  the  train ! "  cried  Alexia.  The 
warning  bell  struck,  and  the  rush  of  travelers 
from  the  waiting-room,  began.  "  Oh  dear  me ! " 
Then  she  forgot  all  about  lier  late  unpleasant- 
ness with  Pickering  Dodge,  and  running  up  to 
him,  she  seized  his  arm,  "Oh,  Pickering,  do 
make  the  conductor  wait  for  that  horrid  boy." 

"  I  can't,"  said  Pickering,  "  the  train's  late, 
any  way.  There,  get  on,  Alexia,"  putting  out 
his  hand  to  help  her  up  the  steps. 

"  Oh,  I  forgot,"  she  cried,  drawing  back, 
"  that  we'd  had  a  fight.  'Tisn't  proper  for  you 
to  help  me,  Pic*kering,  and  you  oughtn't  to  ask 
it,  till  you've  begged  my  pardon." 

"  Then  it  will  be  a  long  day  before  you  re- 
ceive my  assistance,"  said  Pickering,  lifting  his 
cap,  and  turning  on  his  heel  at  the  same  time. 

Jasper  tried  to  get  up  to  Polly's  side,  as  she 
was  hurrying  Phronsie  to  the  car,  old  Mr.  King 
holding  fast  to  Phronsie's  other  hand,  but  Liv- 
ingston Bayley  got  there  first. 

"  Allow  me,  Miss  Phronsie,"  he  was  saying, 
with  extended  hand.  "'Pon  me  word,  it's  a 
beastly  crowd  going  to-day,  sir." 

"  She  will  do  very  well  with  my  assistance," 


CHRISTMAS    AT    DUNRAVEN.  61 

said  the  old  gentleman,  still  holding  Phronsie's 
little  glove.  "  And  I  suppose  Christmas  Day  be- 
longs to  everybody,  eh,  Bay  ley  ?  "  hurrying  in. 

Polly,  her  foot  on  the  lower  step,  turned  and 
sent  a  despairing  glance  down  the  platform, 
and  Jasper  who  saw  it  through  the  crowd,  fell 
back  a  little  to  give  a  last  look  for  Joel. 

"  All  aboard  ! "  sang  out  the  conductor,  wav- 
ing his  hand. 

"  Come  —  oh,  come !  "  called  Polly  with  a 
frantic  gesture,  from  the  doorway  of  the  car, 
as  the  train  moved  off.  "  Oh,  Jasper !  "  as  he 
swung  himself  up  beside  her. 

"•  The  next  train  runs  down  in  an  hour ;  don't 
feel  badly,  Polly,"  Jasper  had  tune  to  beg  be- 
fore they  were  drawn  into  the  confusion  of 
the  car. 

But  no  one  could  pretend,  with  any  sort  of 
success,  that  Joel  wasn't  missed ;  and  Polly 
had  all  that  she  could  do  to  chase  away  the 
sorrowful  expression  of  Phronsie's  little  face. 
And  everybody  tried  his  and  her  best  to  make 
it  as  festive  a  time  as  possible  ;  and  the  other 
passengers  nudged  one  another,  and  sent  many 
an  envious  glance  at  the  merry  party. 


62  CHRISTMAS    AT    DUNRAVEN. 

u  It's  Mr.  King's  family  going  down  to  Bed- 
ford," said  the  conductor  to  one  inquiring  mind. 
"  I  take  'em  every  year,"  proudly.  "  He's 
powerful  rich ;  but  this  ain't  his  affair.  It  all 
b'longs  to  that  little  girl  with  the  big  hat." 
Then  he  dashed  off,  and  called  a  station  ;  and 
after  the  stopping  and  moving  of  the  train 
again,  he  came  back  and  sat  on  the  arm  of  the 
seat  to  finish  his  account.  • 

"  You  see,  there  was  an  old  lady,  a  cousin  of 
the  old  gentleman's,  and  she  made  a  will  in 
favor  of  this  child  with  the  big  hat."  The 
conductor  pointed  his  thumb  at  Phronsie,  lean- 
ing over  Mr.  King's  shoulder,  the  better  to  hear 
a  wonderful  story  he  was  concocting  for  her 
benefit.  "  Why,  she's  got  some  two  or  three 
millions." 

"  What  —  that  child  ?  "  cried  the  listeners,  in 
amaze. 

"  Yes  —  the  old  lady  was  tough,  but "  —  he 
dashed  off  again,  called  a  station,  slammed  the 
door,  and  was  back  in  position  in  less  time  than 
it  takes  to  tell  it  —  "she  was  took  sudden,  while 
Mr.  King's  folks  was  in  Europe,  and  now  that 
child  has  turned  a  handsome  old  place  down 


JOEL  SWINGING  A  BIG  BOX  RUSHED  INTO  DUNRAVEN   HALT.. 


CHRISTMAS    AT    DUNRAVEN.  65 

yonder"  —  he  pointed  with  his  thumb  in  the 
direction  of  Bedford  —  "  Dunraven  Lodge,  the 
old  lady  always  called  it,  into  a  sort  of  a 
Home,  and  she's  chucked  it  full  of  children, 
mostly  those  whose  fathers  and  mothers  are 
dead;  and  every  Christmas  Day  Mr.  King 
takes  down  a  big  crowd,  and  " 

Here  somebody  called  him  off,  not  to  be  seen 
again  till  he  put  his  head  in  the  doorway,  and 
shouted  "  Bedford  !  " 

Joel,  swinging  a  big  box  as  only  Joel  could, 
rushed  into  the  spacious  hall  at  Dunraven 
Lodge.  "  How  are  you  all !  " 

Phronsie  disentangled  herself  from  a  group 
around  the  big  fire-place  where  the  long  hickory 
logs  snapped  and  biased. 

"  Oh,  Josey  ! "  she  cried,  precipitating  herself 
into  his  long  arms. 

"  Here  is  the  toggery,"  cried  Joel,  setting 
down  the  doll-box,  while  he  gathered  Phronsie 
up  in  his  arms. 

"  And  you,  Josey,"  cried  Phronsie,  with  a 
happy  little  hum,  "  you  are  all  here  yourself," 
as  the  group  left  the  fire,  and  surrounded  them. 


66  CHRISTMAS    AT    DUNRAVEN. 

"  Well  —  well —  well ! "  cried  old  Mr.  King, 
lifting  his  head  in  its  velvet  lounging  cap  from 
the  sofa  where  he  had  been  napping.  "  Are  you 
really  here,  Joe ! " 

"Just  like  you,"  greeted  Alexia,  running 
down  the  broad  oaken  stairs.  "Here,  he's 
come ! "  to  Polly,  appearing  at  the  head.  "  We 
were  finishing  the  tree,  and  we  heard  the  noise. 
Dear  me,  Joe,  I  should  think  it  was  a  cyclone," 
as  she  joined  the  group,  Polly  close  behind. 

Joel  tossed  her  a  saucy  answer,  while  Polly 
got  on  her  tiptoes  and  caught  his  crop  of  short 
black  hair  in  her  two  hands.  "  Oh,  Joe,"  she 
said,  dropping  a  kiss  on  it,  "  it  was  lovely  in 
you  to  go  back." 

Joel  felt  well  repaid  for  losing  the  jolly  run 
down,  and  the  grand  entrbe  into  Dunraven,  his 
soul  loved,  but  he  covered  up  what  he  thought, 
by  pulling  Phronsie  into  the  middle  of  the  hall. 
"  Come  on,  Phron,"  he  said,  "  for  a  spin  like  old 
times." 

"  See  here,"  cried  Alexia,  "  we  ought  to  get 
back  to  that  Tree,  Polly  Pepper,  or  it  won't  be 
ready.  Dear  me,  I  dropped  a  box  of  frost  all 
over  the  stairs ;  Joel  made  such  a  noise." 


CHRISTMAS    AT    DUNRAVEN.  67 

At  the  mere  mention  of  such  a  possibility  as 
the  Tree  not  being  ready,  everybody  started ; 
the  last  one  in  the  procession,  picking  up  the 
doll-box,  their  movements  somewhat  quickened, 
as  loud  calls  were  now  set  up  above  stairs,  for 
"  Polly  —  Polly !  " 

"  Come  on,"  sang  out  Joel,  who  had  paid  his 
respects  in  a  flying  fashion  to  Grandpapa's  sofa, 
and  leaping  the  stairs.  "  Goodness  me,  Alexia, 
I  should  think  you  did  spill  this  frost.  Why 
didn't  you  go  over  more  ground?" 

"I  don't  believe  we  can  save  one  bit," 
mourned  Alexia,  peering  up  the  stair-length, 
each  step  sparkling  with  myriad  little  frosty 
gems,  as  if  Jack  Frost  himself  had  sprinkled  it 
with  a  Christmas  hand.  "  Oh,  dear,  why  did 
you  come  in  with  such  a  noise,  Joe  Pepper  ?  " 

"Just  like  a  girl,"  said  Joel;  "jumps  at 
everything  and  drops  whatever  she  has  in  her 
hand.  You  all  go  up  the  other  stairs ;  I'll 
sweep  this  in  a  minute,  and  save  what  I  can." 

"  Oh,  Joe,  don't  stop ;  we  want  you  for  the 
Tree,"  begged  Polly.  "  Phronsie  has  been  wait- 
ing downstairs  all  this  time  for  you  to  come. 
Let  one  of  the  maids  do  it ; "  Joe  already  had 


68  CHRISTMAS    AT    DUNRAVEN. 

his  head  in  a  closet  he  knew  of  old,  opening 
into  the  big  hall. 

"  Give  me  the  broom,"  said  a  voice  close  be- 
side him. 

«  Eh  —  what  ?  "  cried  Joel,  pulling  out  what 
he  wanted  —  a  soft  floor  brush.  "  Oh,  is  that 
you,  Loughead  ?  "  turning  around. 

"  I  believe  so,"  said  Jack,  laughing.  "  Here, 
give  me  the  broom.  I'm  no  help  about  a  Tree  ; 
I'll  have  the  stuff  up  there  soon,"  and  before 
Joel  knew  it,  he  was  racing  over  the  back  stairs, 
wondering  how  it  was  he  had  let  that  disagree- 
able Jack  Loughead  get  hold  of  that  broom. 

"  It  makes  me  think  of  our  first  Tree,  in  some 
way,"  said  Polly  softly,  with  glistening  eyes, 
looking  up  at  the  beautiful  branching  spruce, 
its  countless  arms  shaking  out  brilliant  pend- 
ants, and  gay  with  streamers  and  candles, 
wherever  a  decoration  could  be  placed,  the 
whole  tipped  with  a  shining  star.  "Oh,  Bensie, 
can  you  ever  forget  that  ?  " 

Ben  looked  down  from  the  top  of  the  step- 
ladder  where  he  was  adjusting  some  last  bit  of 
ornament. 

"  Never,  Polly,"  he  said,  his  eyes  meeting  hers. 


"    CHRISTMAS    AT    DUNKAVEN.  69 

"  That  was  so  beautiful,"  cried  Polly.  "  And 
we  had  it  in  our  '  Provision  Room,'  and  Mrs. 
Henderson  brought  my  bird  over,  and  the  other 
things  the  last  minute,  and  " 

"  I  had  to,"  broke  in  Mrs.  Henderson  with  a 
laugh,  and  shaking  the  snips  of  green  from  her 
white  apron,  "for  you  and  Ben  would  have  dis- 
covered the  whole  surprise.  You  were  dread- 
ful that  day." 

"  I'm  glad  somebody  else  was  dreadful  in 
those  times,  besides  me,"  observed  Joel  from 
among  the  branches,  where  he  was  tying  on 
the  several  presents  Alexia  handed  to  him. 

"  Well,  you  see,"  said  Polly,  with  rosy  cheeks, 
"  it  was  our  first  Tree,  and  we  were  so  afraid 
the  children  would  find  it  out,  and  spoil  all  the 
surprise." 

"And  did  we?"  cried  Phronsie,  in  intense 
excitement,  emerging  from  the  depths  of  the 
Tree,  the  better  to  look  at  Polly,  "  did  we,  Polly, 
and  spoil  it  all  ?  " 

"No,  Pet,"  cried  Polly,  "you  were  just  as 
good  as  could  be." 

"  I  remember,"  said  Joel,  "  you  told  us  stories, 
Polly,  in  the  kitchen,  and  "  — 


70  CHRISTMAS    AT    DUNRAVEN. 

"  We  tooted  on  our  tin  horns,"  finished  David ; 
**oh,  Joe,  do  you  remember  those  horns  V" 

"  And  that  molasses  candy,"  said  Joel,  smack- 
ing his  lips,  "  I  remember  I  ate  mine  up  before 
breakfast." 

"  And  did  I  have  any  ? "  asked  Phronsie, 
turning  from  one  to  the  other. 

"  Yes,  indeed,  you  did,"  answered  Joel. 

"  Why,  did  you  think  we'd  forget  you,  Phron- 
sie ? "  asked  Polly,  a  bit  reproachfully. 

"  And  don't  you  remember  it  ?  "  said  David. 

"  No,"  said  Phronsie.  "  I  don't ;  but  I  re- 
member Seraphina's  bonnet." 

"  It  was  trimmed  with  some  of  Grandma 
Bascom's  chicken's  feathers,"  said  Joel. 

"  And  Mamsie  made  it  out  of  an  old  bonnet 
string,"  said  Polly.  "  Oh  dear,  if  only  Mamsie 
were  here  to-day ! "  And  a  cloud  came  over  her 
face. 

"  But  we've  Baby  Fisher  now,"  said  Ben 
cheerfully,  looking  down  at  her.  "  He's  worth 
staying  at  home  for,  Polly." 

"Of  course  he  is,"  said  Polly,  her  gayety 
returning.  "  And  dear  Papa  Fisher  was  mas- 
ter of  ceremonies  then  ;  but  he  wouldn't  enjoy 


"AND  DID  WE,"CRIED  PHRONSIE,  "FIND  IT  OUT,  POLLY,  AND  SPOIL  IT  ALL  ?" 


CHRISTMAS    AT    DUNRAVEN.  73 

it  to-day  without  Mamsie.  So  we  oughtn't  to 
wish  him  here." 

"  I  wish  you  wouldn't  begin  .about  that  Little 
Brown  House,  and  what  elegant  times  you  had 
in  it,"  exclaimed  Alexia,  twitching  at  a  present 
Joel  had  just  tied  on,  to  be  sure  it  was  secure ; 
"  I  shall  think  this  Tree  is  perfectly  horrid,  if 
you  do,  Polly  Pepper." 

"  Go  on  —  do  go  on,"  begged  several  voices. 
Meanwhile,  Jack  Loughead  had  come  silently 
up  into  the  long  hall,  and  deposited  a  neat  box- 
ful of  the  gleaming  frost  on  the  table,  without 
any  comments. 

"  Dear  me,  there  is  so  much  to  tell,"  cried 
Polly,  with  a  little  laugh,  "  if  we  begin  about 
Jappy's  Tree." 

"  Who's  Tree  ?  "  cried  Livingston  Bayley, 
who  had  been  wrinkling  his  brows  in  great  per- 
plexity all  through  the  recital. 

"  Why,  Jasper's,"  said  Polly  and  Ben  to- 
gether ;  Joel  and  David  coming  in  as  echoes. 

"  You  see,"  said  Phronsie  distinctly,  "  that 
Jasper  and  dear  Grandpapa  sent  the  beautiful 
things  to  us." 

"  Mrs.  Pepper  and  Polly  and  Ben  had  gotten 


74  CHRISTMAS    AT    DUNRAVKN. 

the  Tree  ready  before,"  said  Jasper  hastily. 
"  Oh  !  didn't  I  want  to  be  there ! "  he  added. 

"  Yes ;  Polly  almost  cried  because  you 
couldn't  be,"  said  Joel  in  among  the  branches. 

"  But  she  couldn't  quite  cry,"  said  Davie, 
"  because  you  see  we  children  would  have  found 
it  out.  Polly  always  sang  in  those  days." 

"  Do  you  remember  how  we  used  to  run  be- 
hind the  wood-pile  when  we  wanted  to  plan  the 
Tree,  Polly,"  asked  Ben,  "  to  get  away  from 
Joel  and  Dave  ?  " 

"  You  spent  most  all  your  time  in  the  Little 
Brown  House  in  sneaking  off  from  us,"  said 
Joel  vindictively. 

"  Well,  we  had  to,  if  we  ever  did  anything," 
said  Ben  coolly. 

"  I  should  think  so,"  remarked  Livingston 
Bayley,  delighted  to  give  a  thrust  at  somebody. 

"  And  weren't  the  gilt  balls  pretty  ?  "  cried 
Polly,  quite  gone  now  in  the  reminiscences, 
though  her  fingers  kept  on  at  their  task ;  "  you 
did  cover  those  nuts  beautifully,  Bensie.  T 
don't  see  how  you  could,  with  such  snips  of 
paper." 

"  How  did  he  make  the  balls  ?  "  asked  Alexia, 


CHRISTMAS    AT    DUNRAVEN.  75 

forgetting  herself  in  her  interest,  and  coming 
up  to  Polly. 

"  Why,  we  had  some  bits  of  bright  paper, 
little  bits,  you  know,  and  Ben  covered  hickory 
nuts  with  them,  and  pasted  them  all  as 
smoothly  ;  you  can't  think  !  " 

"  Oh,  my  !  "  exclaimed  Alexia. 

"  And  Polly  strung  all  the  pop-corn,  and  fixed 
the  candle-ends  somebody  gave  Mamsie,  and  " 

"  Candle-ends  ?  Why  didn't  you  have  whole 
ones  ?  "  cried  Alexia. 

"  Why,  we  couldn't,"  said  Polly,  "  and  we 
were  glad  enough  to  get  these.  Oh  !  the  Tree 
looked  just  beautifully  with  them,  I  tell 
you." 

"You  see,"  said  Phronsie,  drawing  near  to 
look  into  Alexia's  face,  "  we  were  very,  very 
poor,  Alexia.  So  Polly  and  Bensie  made  the 
Tree.  Don't  you  understand  ?  " 

"  It  was  really  Bensie's  Tree,"  said  Polly 
honestly,  "  for  I  didn't  believe  at  first  we 
could  do  it." 

"  Oh,  yes,  you  did,  Polly,"  corrected  Ben 
hastily ;  "  at  any  rate,  you  saw  it  in  a  minute." 

"  And  it's  the  first  time  you  didn't  believe 


76  CHRISTMAS    AT    DUNRAVEN. 

a  thing  could  be  done,  T  imagine,"  declared 
Jasper,  with  a  bright  nod  at  Polly. 

"  Well,  Bensie  thought  of  this  Tree,  and 
made  me  see  that  we  could  do  it,"  persisted 
Polly,  giving  a  little  quirk  to  a  rebellious 
pendant. 

Mrs.  Henderson  put  the  corner  of  her  white 
apron  to  her  eyes.  "I  always  have  to,"  she 
said  to  Mrs.  Dyce,  "  when  the  Little  Brown 
House  days  bring  those  blessed  children  back 
to  me." 

Jack  Loughead  drew  nearer  yet ;  so  near 
that  he  lost  never  a  word. 

"  You  ought  to  have  seen  what  a  Santa  Glaus 
Ben  made  !  "  Polly  was  saying. 

"I  cut  your  performance  yesterday  at  Baby's 
Tree,  all  out,  old  fellow,"  declared  Ben,  descend- 
ing from  the  step-ladder  and  bestowing  an 
affectionate  clap  on  Jasper's  shoulder. 

"  I  don't  doubt  it,"  Jasper  gave  back. 

"  We  made  the  wig  out  of  Mamsie's  cushion 
hair,"  laughed  Polly.  "  And  we  had  such  a  piece 
of  work  putting  it  all  back  the  next  morning." 

"  And  Polly  shook  flour  all  over  me,  for  the 
snow,"  said  Ben,  laughing. 


CHRISTMAS    AT    DUNRAVEN.  77 

"  Come  back,  Alexia,  and  hand  me  some 
more  gimcracks,  do,"  cried  Joel,  poking  his 
head  out  of  the  branches  to  look  at  his  late 
assistant. 

"Well,  do  go  on  about  your  Tree  in  the 
Brown  House,"  begged  Alexia,  tearing  herself 
away  to  answer  Joel's  demands,  "  seeing  you 
have  begun.  What  did  you  do  next,  Polly?" 

"  Well,  we  all  marched  into  the  '  Provision 
Room,' "  went  on  Polly,  her  cheeks  aglow, "  ex- 
pecting to  see  our  Tree  just  as  we  had  left  it ; 
all  but  Ben,  he  was  going  to  jump  into  the 
window  at  the  right  time,  when  the  first 
thing  "  - 

"  Polly  sat  right  down  on  the  floor,  saying, 
'  Oh ! ' "  cried  Joel,  taking  the  words  out  of  her 
mouth. 

"  I  couldn't  help  it,  I  was  so  surprised,"  said 
Polly,  with  shining  eyes.  "  There  was  a  most 
beautiful  Tree,  full  of  just  everything ;  and 
there  was  Mamsie,  almost  crying,  she  was  so 
happy ;  and  there  was  Cherry  singing  away  in 
his  cage,  and  the  corner  of  the  room  was  all 
a-bloom  with  flowers,  and  " 

"  And  Grandma  Bascom  was  there  —  wasn't 


78  CHRISTMAS    AT    DUNRAVEN. 

she  funny  ?  She  used  to  give  us  hard  old 
raisins  sometimes,"  said  Joel,  afraid  to  show 
what  he  was  feeling. 

"And  Phronsie  screamed  right  out,"  went 
on  Polly,  "  and  Davie  said  it  was  Fairyland." 

By  this  time,  Alexia  had  dropped  the  present 
she  was  holding,  and  had  run  back  to  Polly's 
side  again,  and  somehow  most  of  the  other 
workers  followed  her  example,  the  circle  of  lis- 
teners closing  around  the  little  bunch  of  Pep- 
pers. "  And  Jasper  sent  a  Christmas  greeting, 
beside  the  Tree,"  Polly  ended,  "  and  it  was  per- 
fectly lovely." 

"And  Santa  Claus  and  Polly  took  hold  of 
hands  and  danced  around  the  Tree,"  said  Joel; 
"  I'll  never  forget  that." 

"  Well,  you  would  better  take  hold  of  hands 
and  dance  down  to  the  recitation  room,"  said 
Parson  Henderson's  deep  voice,  as  he  suddenly 
appeared  in  their  midst,  "  the  children  are  all 
ready  to  give  their  carols.  Coma" 


CHAPTER    IV. 

THE    FESTIVITIES. 

T)HRONSIE  looked  down  into  the  sea  of 
_L  eager  faces  "Oh,  Grandpapa,"  she  ex- 
claimed softly,  and  plucking  his  sleeve,  "  don't 
you  think  we  might  hurry  and  begin?" 

"  Dear  me,  Phronsie,"  cried  the  old  gentle- 
man, whirling  around  in  his  big  chair  to  look 
at  her,  "  why,  they  aren't  all  in,  child,"  glanc- 
ing down  the  aisle  where  Jasper  as  chief  usher 
with  Ben  and  the  others  were  busily  settling 
the  children.  "  Bless  me,  what  is  Joel  doing?  " 

Phronsie  looked  too,  to  see  Joel  hurrying 
up  to  the  platform  with  a  little  colored  child 
perched  on  his  shoulder.  She  was  crying  all 
over  his  new  coat,  and  at  every  step  uttered  a 
sharp  scream. 

"  Toss  the  little  beggar  out,"  advised  Living- 
ston Bayley,  as  Joel  shot  by  with  his  burden. 
79 


80  THE    FESTIVITIES. 

"  Here,  Joe,  I'll  give  her  a  seat,"  cried  David 
from  a  little  knot  of  children,  all  turning  ex- 
citedly around  at  the  commotion,  "  there's  just 
one  here." 

"  Much  obliged,"  said  Joel,  stalking  on, "  but 
she  says  she  wants  to  see  Phronsie  about 
something." 

Polly,  who  caught  the  last  words,  looked 
down  reproachfully  at  him  from  the  platform 
where  Phronsie  always  insisted  that  she  should 
sit  close  to  her.  "  Can't  help  it,"  Joel  tele- 
graphed back,  "  I  can't  stop  her  crying." 

Phronsie  heard  now,  and  getting  out  of  her 
chair,  she  stepped  to  the  platform  edge.  "Let 
me  take  her,"  she  begged. 

"Phronsie,  you  can't  have  her  up  here!" 
Polly  exclaimed,  while  old  Mr.  King  put  forth 
an  uneasy  hand  to  stop  all  such  proceedings, 
and  two  or  three  of  the  others  hurried  up  to 
remonstrate  with  Joel. 

"  She  wants  to  see  me,"  said  Phronsie,  put- 
ting her  cool  cheek  against  the  dark  little  one ; 
"  it's  the  new  child  that  came  yesterday,"  and 
she  took  her  off  from  Joel's  shoulder,  and  stag- 
gered back  to  her  seat  by  Polly's  side. 


THE    FESTIVITIES.  81 

"  Phronsie,  do  put  her  down,"  whispered 
Polly,  "  it's  almost  time  to  begin,"  glancing  off 
at  the  clock  under  its  wealth  of  evergreen  at 
the  farther  end  of  the  hall.  "  Here,  do  let  me 
take  her." 

Biit  Phronsie  was  whispering  so  fast  that  she 
didn't  hear. 

"What  is  it?  Please  tell  me  quickly,  for 
it  is  almost  time  to  have  the  Tree." 

At  mention  of  the  Tree,  the  little  creature 
sat  straight  in  Phronsie's  white  lap.  "  May  I 
have  some  of  it,  if  I  am  black?"  she  begged, 
her  beady  eyes  running  with  tears. 

"  Yes,"  said  Phronsie,  "  I've  tied  a  big  doll 
on  it  for  you  my  very  own  self."  Then  she 
put  her  lips  on  the  dark  little  cheek.  "  Now 
you  must  get  down,  for  I  have  to  talk  to  the 
children,  and  tell  them  all  about  things,  and 
why  they  have  a  Christmas." x 

But  the  little  thing  huddled  up  against 
Phronsie's  waist-ribbons.  "I'm  the  only  one 
that's  black,"  she  said.  "  I  want  to  stay  here." 

"  Now  you  see,  Joel,"  began  old  Mr.  King- 
harshly.  Phronsie  laid  a  soft  hand  on  his  arm. 
«  Please,  Grandpapa  dear,  may  she  have  a  little 


82  THE    FESTIVITIES. 

cricket  up  here  ?  She  feels  lonely  down  with 
the  other  children,  for  she's  only  just  come.  " 

"  Oh,  dear  —  dear  ! "  groaned  Polly,  looking 
down  at  the  little  black  object  in  Phronsie's 
lap.  "  Now  what  shall  we  do  ?  "  This  last  to 
Jasper  as  he  hurried  up. 

"  I  suppose  we  shall  have  to  let  her  stay,"  he 
began. 

"  When  Phronsie  looks  like  that,  she  won't 
ever  let  her  go,"  declared  Ben,  with  a  wise  nod 
over  at  the  two. 

"  She's  just  as  determined  as  she  was  that 
day  when  she  would  send  Mr.  King  her  ginger- 
bread boy,"  cried  Polly,  clasping  her  hands. 

Jasper  gave  her  a  bright  smile.  "  I  wouldn't 
worry,  Polly,"  he  said.  "See,  Joel  has  just 
put  a  cricket — it's  ail  right,"  looking  into 
Polly's  troubled  eyes. 

Phronsie,  having  seated  her  burden  on  the 
cricket  at  her  feet,  got  out  of  her  own  chair, 
and  took  one  step  toward  the  platform  edge, 
beginning,  "Dear  children."  But  the  small 
creature  left  behind  clutched  the  floating  hem 
of  the  white  gown,  and  screamed  harder  than 
ever. 


THE    FESTIVITIES.  83 

"  Bless  me  !  "  ejaculated  Mr.  King  in  great 
distress.  "  Here,  will  somebody  take  this  child 
down  where  she  belongs  ?  "  While  Polly  with 
flushed  cheeks,  leaned  over,  and  tried  to  un- 
clasp the  little  black  fingers. 

"  Go  up  there,  Joe,  and  stop  the  row,"  said 
Livingston  Bayley  from  the  visitor's  seat  at  the 
end  of  the  hall ;  "  you  started  it." 

Jack  Loughead  took  a  step  or  two  in  the 
direction  of  the  platform,  then  thought  better 
of  it,  and  got  back  into  his  place  again,  hoping 
no  one  had  noticed  him  in  the  confusion. 

Phronsie  leaned  over  as  well  as  she  could  for 
the  little  hands  pulling  her  back.  "  Jasper," 
she  begged,  "  do  move  the  cricket  so  that  she 
may  sit  by  me. " 

And  before  anybody  quite  knew  how  it  was 
done,  there  was  the  new  child  sitting  on  her 
cricket,  and  huddled  up  against  the  soft  folds 
of  Phronsie's  white  gown,  while  Phronsie, 
standing  close  to  the  platform  edge,  began 
again,  "Dear  children,  you  know  this  is 
Christmas  Day —  your  very  own  Christmas  Day. 
And  every  Christmas  Day  since  you  came  to 
the  Home,  I  have  told  you  the  story  of  the 


84  THE    FESTIVITIES. 

dear  beautiful  Lady ;  and  every  single  Christ- 
mas I  am  going  to  tell  it  to  you  again,  so  that 
you  will  never,  never  forget  her." 

Here  Phronsie  turned,  and  pointed  up  to  a 
large,  full-length  portrait  of  Mrs.  Chatterton 
hanging  on  the  wall  over  the  platform.  It 
was  painted  in  her  youth  by  a  celebrated 
French  artist,  and  represented  a  beautiful  young 
woman  in  a  yellow  satin  gown,  whose  rich  folds 
of  lace  fell  away  from  perfectly  molded  neck 
and  arms. 

All  the  children  stared  at  the  portrait  as 
usual  in  this  stage  of  the  proceedings.  "  Now 
you  must  say  after  me,  '  I  thank  my  beautiful 
Lady  for  this  Home,'  "  said  Phronsie  slowly. 

"  I  thank  my  beautiful  Lady  for  this  Home," 
said  every  child  distinctly. 

"  Because  without  her  I  could  not  have  had 
it,"  said  Phronsie.  "  You  must  always  remem- 
ber that,  children.  Now  say  it."  She  stood 
very  patiently,  her  hands  folded  together,  and 
waited  to  hear  them  repeat  it. 

"  Because  without  her  I  could  not  have  had 
it,"  said  the  children,  one  or  two  coming  in 
shrilly  as  a  belated  echo. 


THE    FESTIVITIES.  87 

"  And  I  thank  her  for  the  beautiful  Tree," 
said  Phronsie.  "  Now  say  it,  please." 

u  I  thank  her  for  the  beautiful  Tree,"  shouted 
the  children,  craning  their  necks  away  from  the 
portrait  to  get  a  glimpse  of  the  curtain-veiled 
Tree  in  the  other  room.  "  Please  can't  we  have 
it  now  ?  "  begged  several  voices. 

"  No ;  not  until  you  all  hear  the  story.  Well, 
now,  God  took  the  beautiful  Lady  away  to 
Heaven  ;  but  she  is  always  going  to  be  here 
too,"  again  Phronsie  pointed  to  the  portrait, 
"  just  as  long  as  there  is  any  Home.  And  she 
is  going  to  smile  at  you,  because  you  are  all 
going  to  be  good  children  and  try  to  study  and 
learn  all  that  dear  Mr.  Henderson  teaches  you  ; 
and  you  are  going  to  obey  every  single  thing 
that  dear  Mrs.  Henderson  tells  you,  just  as  soon 
as  she  speaks,"  said  Phronsie  slowly,  and  turn- 
ing her  head  to  look  at  the  different  rows. 

"  I  hope  we'll  be  forgiven  for  sitting  here 
and  listening  to  old  lady  Chatterton's  praises," 
whispered  Mrs.  Hamilton  Dyce  to  her  husband. 
"  It  makes  me  feel  dreadfully  wicked  to  swallow 
it  all  without  a  protest." 

"  Oh,  we've  swallowed  that  annually  for  three 


88  THE    FESTIVITIES. 

years  now,"  said  Mr.  Dyce  with  a  little  laugh, 
"  and  grown  callous.  Your  face  is  just  as  bad 
as  it  was  the  first  time  Phronsie  eulogized  her." 

"  I  can't  help  it,"  declared  his  wife,  "  when  I 
think  of  that  dreadful  old  " 

"  Oh,  come,"  remonstrated  her  husband,  "  let's 
bury  the  past ;  Phronsie  has." 

"  Phronsie !  "  ejaculated  Mrs.  Dyce.  "  Oh, 
that  blessed  child !  Just  hear  her  now." 

"  So  on  this  Christmas  Day,"  Phronsie  was 
saying  in  clear  tones,  "you  are  to  remember 
that  you  wouldn't  have  had  this  Tree  but  for 
the  beautiful  Lady  ;  and  on  every  single  other 
day,  you  must  remember  that  you  wouldn't 
ever  have  had  this  Home  ;  not  a  bit  of  any  of 
it"  —  here  she  turned  and  looked  around  the 
picture-hung  walls,  and  out  of  the  long  windows 
to  the  dark  pines  and  firs  of  the  broad  lawn, 
tossing  their  snow-laden  branches,  "  but  for  the 
beautiful  lady.  And  you  must  every  one  of 
you  help  to  make  this  Home  just  the  very  best 
Home  that  ever  was.  Will  you  ?  "  And  then 
she  smiled  down  into  their  faces  while  she 
waited  for  her  answer. 

"  Oh,  yes,  yes,"  screamed  the  children,  every 


THE    FESTIVITIES.  89 

one.  The  little  black  creature  got  off  from  her 
cricket  at  Phronsie's  feet  to  look  into  her  face. 
"  And  I  will  too,"  she  cried. 

"And  now  you  all  want  to  thank  Miss 
Phronsie  for  her  kind  words,  we  know,"  Jasper 
cried  at  this  point,  hurrying  into  the  middle 
of  the  aisle,  "  and  so,  children,  you  may  all 
stand  up  and  say  '  Thank  you,'  and  wave  your 
handkerchiefs." 

Up  flew  all  the  rows  of  children  to  their  feet, 
and  a  cloud  of  tiny  white  squares  of  cambric 
fluttered  in  the  air,  and  the  children  kept  pip- 
ing out,  "  Thank  you  —  Thank  you."  And  old 
Mr.  King  began  a  cheer  for  Phronsie,  and 
another  for  the  children ;  and  then  somebody 
down  at  the  end  of  the  long  hall  set  up  another 
for  Mr.  King,  and  somebody  else  started  one 
for  Mr.  Henderson,  and  another  for  Mrs.  Hen- 
derson, and  there  was  plenty  of  noise,  and  high 
above  it  all  rang  the  peals  of  happy,  childish 
laughter.  And  when  it  was  all  done,  every- 
body pausing  to  take  breath,  then  Amy  Loug- 
head  sent  out  the  finest  march  ever  heard,  from 
the  grand  piano,  and  Polly  and  Jasper  and  all 
the  rest  marshaled  the  children  into  a  proces- 


90  THE    FESTIVITIES. 

sion,  and  Phronsie  clinging  to  old  Mr.  King's 
hand  on  the  one  side,  and  holding  fast  to  the 
small  black  palm  on  the  other,  away  they  all 
went,  the  visitors  falling  into  line,  around  and 
around  the  big  hall,  till  at  last  —  oh  !  at  last, 
they  turned  into  the  Enchanted  Land  that  held 
the  wonderful  Christmas  Tree.  And  when  they 
were  all  before  it,  and  Phronsie  in  the  center,  she 
lifted  her  hand,  and  the  room  became  so  still 
one  could  hear  a  pin  drop.  And  then  the  little 
children  who  had  sung  the  carols  in  the  morning 
stepped  forward  and  began,  "  It  came  upon  the 
midnight  clear,  that  glorious  song  of  old  " 

And  Phronsie  drew  a  long  breath,  and  folded 
her  hands,  not  stirring  till  the  very  last  word 
died  on  the  air. 

And  then  Jasper  and  the  others  slowly  drew 
aside  the  white  curtain  ;  and  oh !  the  dazzling, 
beautiful  apparition  that  greeted  every  one's 
eyes !  No  one  could  stop  the  children's  noisy 
delight,  and  the  best  of  it  was,  that  no  one 
wanted  to.  So  for  the  next  few  moments  it  was 
exactly  like  the  merry  time  over  the  Tree  in  the 
"Provision  Room"  of  the  Little  Brown  House 
years  ago,  just  as  Polly  had  said ;  only  there  was 


THE    FESTIVITIES.  91 

ever  so  much  more  of  it,  because  there  were 
ever  so  many  more  children  to  make  it ! 

And  Polly  and  Ben  were  like  children  again 
themselves ;  and  David  and  Joel  were  every- 
where helping  on  the  fun ;  in  which  excite- 
ment the  other  Harvard  man  and  even  Living- 
ston Bayley  were  not  ashamed  to  take  a  most 
active  part,  as  Jasper,  who  had  borrowed  Santa 
Claus'  attire  for  this  occasion,  now  made  his 
appearance  with  a  most  astonishing  bow.  And 
then  the  presents  began  to  fly  from  the  Tree, 
and  Jack  Longhead  seemed  to  be  all  arms, 
for  he  was  so  tall  he  could  reach  down  the 
hanging  gifts  from  the  higher  branches,  so 
that  he  was  in  great  demand ;  and  Pickering 
Dodge,  one  eye  on  all  of  Polly's  movements, 
worked  furiously,  and  Alexia  Rhys  and  Cathie 
Harrison  didn't  give  themselves  hardly  time  to 
breathe  ;  and  there  was  quite  enough  for  Mr. 
Alstyne  and  the  Cabots  and  Hamilton  Dyce  to 
do,  and  everybody  else,  for  that  matter,  to  pass 
around  the  presents.  And  in  the  midst  of  it  all, 
a  big  doll,  resplendent  in  a  red  satin  gown, 
and  an  astonishing  hat,  was  untied  from  the 
tree. 


i)2  THE    FESTIVITIES. 

"  O,  T  want  to  give  it  to  her  myself !  "  cried 
Phronsie. 

"  So  you  shall,"  declared  Jasper,  handing  it 
to  her. 

"Susan,  this  is  your  very  own  child,"  said 
Phronsie,  turning  to  the  little  colored  girl  at 
her  side.  "Now  you  won't  feel  lonely  ever, 
will  you?"  and  she  laid  the  doll  carefully  into 
the  outstretched  arras. 

And  at  last  the  green  branches  had  shaken 
off  their  wealth  of  gifts,  and  the  shining  candles 
began  to  go  out,  one  by  one. 

"  Grandpapa,"  cried  Polly,  coming  up  to  old 
Mr.  King  and  Phronsie,  with  a  basket  of  mot- 
toes and  bonbons  enough  to  satisfy  the  de- 
mands of  the  most  exacting  Children's  Home, 
"  we  ought  to  get  our  paper  caps  on." 

"  Bless  me ! "  ejaculated  old  Mr.  King,  pulling 
out  his  watch,  "it  can't  be  time  to  march.  Ah, 
it's  a  quarter  of  four  this  minute.  Here,  child," 
to  Phronsie,  "  pick  out  your  bonbon  so  that  I 
can  snap  it  with  you." 

Phronsie  gravely  regarded  the  pretty  bon- 
bons in  Polly's  basket.  "  I  must  pick  out  yours 
first,  Grandpapa,"  she  said  slowly,  lifting  a  silver. 


THE    FESTIVITIES.  93 


paper-and-lace  arrangement  •qrith  a  bunch  of 
forget-me-nots  in  the  center.  "  I  think  this  is 
pretty." 

"  So  it  is  ;  most  beautiful,  dear,"  said  the  old 
gentleman,  in  great  satisfaction.  "  N"ow  we 
must  crack  it,  I  suppose."  So  he  took  hold  of 
one  end,  and  Phronsie  held  fast  to  the  other  of 
the  bonbon,  and  a  sharp  little  report  gave  the 
signal  for  all  the  bonbons  to  be  opened.  There- 
upon, everybody,  old  and  young,  hurried  to 
secure  one,  and  great  was  the  snapping  and 
cracking  that  now  followed. 

"Oh,  Grandpapa,  isn't  your  cap  pretty?"  ex 
claimed  Phronsie  in  pleased  surprise,  drawing 
forth  a  pink  and  yellow   crinkled   tissue   bit. 
"  See,"  smoothing  it  out  with  a  gentle  hand, 
"  it's  a  crown,  Grandpapa  !  " 

"  Now  that's  perfectly  lovely  !  "  cried  Polly, 
setting  down  her  basket.  "  Here,  let  me  help 
you,  child  —  there,  that's  straight.  Now,  Grand- 
papa, please  bend  over  so  that  Phronsie  can 
put  it  on." 

Instead,  the  old  gentleman  dropped  to  one 
knee.  "Now,  dear,"  he  said  gallantly.  So 
Phronsie  set  the  pink  and  yellow  crown  on  his 


94  THE    FESTIVITIES. 

white  hair,  stepping  back  gravely  to  view  the 
effect. 

"  It  is  so  very  nice,  dear  Grandpapa,"  she  said, 
coming  back  to  his  side.  So  old  Mr.  King 
stood  up,  with  quite  a  regal  air,  and  Phronsie 
had  a  little  blue  and  white  paper  bonnet  tied 
under  her  chin  by  Grandpapa's  own  hand. 
And  caps  were  flying  on  to  all  the  heads,  and 
each  right  hand  held  a  tinkling  little  bell  that 
had  swung  right  merrily  on  a  green  branch-tip. 
And  away  to  Amy  Loughead's  second  march 
—  on  and  on,  jangling  their  bells,  the  procession 
went,  through  the  long  hall,  till  old  Mr.  King 
and  Phronsie  who  led,  turned  down  the  broad 
staircase,  and  into  the  dining-room ;  and  here 
the  guests  stood  on  either  side  of  the  door- 
way while  the  little  Home  children  passed  up 
through  their  midst. 

And  there  were  two  long  tables,  one  for  the 
Home  children,  with  a  place  for  Phronsie  at  its 
head,  and  another  for  old  Mr.  King  at  the  foot. 
And  the  other  table  was  for  the  older  people; 
both  gay  with  Christmas  holly,  and  sweet  with 
flowers.  And  when  all  were  seated,  and  a  hush 
fell  upon  the  big  room,  Phronsie  lifted  her  hand. 


THE    FESTIVITIES.  95 

We  Thank  Thee^  oh 
For  this  Christmas 
And  may  we  love  Thee 
And  serve  Thee  alway. 
For  Jesus  Christ 
The  Holy  Child's  sake. 
Amen. 

It  rang  out  clear  and  sweet  in  childish  treble, 
floating  off.  into  the  halls  and  big  rooms. 

"  Now,  Can  dace,"  Phronsie  lifted  a  plate  of 
biscuits,  and  a  comfortable  figure  of  a  colored 
woman,  resplendent  in  the  gayest  of  turbans 
and  a  smart  stuff  gown,  made  its  appearance 
by  Phronsie's  chair. 

"  I'm  here,  honey,"  and  Candace's  broad  palm 
received  the  first  plate  to  be  passed,  which 
opened  the  ceremony  of  the  Christmas  feast. 

Oh,  this  Christmas  feast  at  Dunraven !  It 
surpassed  all  the  other  Dunraven  Christmases 
on  record ;  everybody  said  so.  And  at  last, 
when  no  one  could  possibly  eat  more,  all  the 
merry  roomful,  young  and  old,  must  have  a 
holly  sprig  fastened  to  the  coat,  or  gown,  or 
apron,  and  the  procession  was  formed  to  march 


96  THE    FESTIVITIES. 

back  to  the  hall ;  and  Mr.  Jack  Loughead's 
stereopticon  flashed  out  the  most  beautiful 
pictures,  that  his  bright  descriptions  explained 
to  the  delighted  children ;  and  then  games 
and  romps,  and  more  bonbons,  and  favors  and 
flowers  ;  and  at  last  the  sleighs  and  barges  for 
Mr.  King's  party  were  drawn  up  in  the  moon- 
light, at  the  door  of  Dun  raven,  and  the  Christ- 
mas at  the  Home  was  only  a  beautiful  memory. 

"  Miss  Mary  "  —  Mr.  Livingston  Bayley  put 
out  his  brown  driving  glove  —  "this  way,"  try- 
ing to  lead  her  off  from  the  gay  group  on  the 
snow-covered  veranda. 

"  Why,  I  don't  understand,"  began  Polly,  in 
the  midst  of  trying  to  make  Phronsie  see  that 
it  was  not  necessary  to  go  back  and  comfort 
Susan  with  another  good-by,  and  turning  a  be- 
wildered face  up  at  him. 

"  Why,  I  certainly  supposed  you  accepted 
my  offer  to  drive  you  to  the  station,"  said  Mr. 
Bayley  hurriedly,  and  still  extending  his  hand. 
"  Come,  Miss  Pepper." 

"  Come,  Polly,  I've  a  seat  for  you."  cried 
Alexia,  just  flying  into  the  biggest  barge.  "  Do 
hurry,  Polly." 


THE    FESTIVITIES.  97 

"  Polly,"  called  Jasper.  She  could  see  that 
he  stood  by  one  of  the  sleighs,  beckoning  to 
her. 

Meantime,  Phronsie  had  been  borne  off  by 
old  Mr.  King,  and  Polly  could  hear  her  say, 
"  Somebody  get  Polly  a  seat,  please." 

"  I  considered  it  a  promise,"  Livingston  Bay- 
ley  was  saying  under  cover  of  the  gay  confusion. 
"  And  accordingly  I  prepared  myself.  But  of 
course  if  you  do  not  wish  to  fulfill  it,  Miss 
Pepper,  why,  I " 

"  Oh,  no,  no,"  cried  Polly  hastily,  "  if  you 
really  thought  I  promised  you,  Mr.  Bayley,  I 
will  go,  thank  you,"  and  without  a  backward 
glance  at  the  others,  she  moved  off  to  the  gay 
little  cutter  where  the  horse  stood  shaking  his 
bells  impatiently. 

"  Where's  Polly  ? "  somebody  called  out. 
And  somebody  else  peered  down  the  row  of 
vehicles,  and  answered,  "  Mr.  Bayley's  driving 
her." 

And  they  were  all  off. 

Polly  kept  saying  to  herself,  "  Oh,  dear,  dear, 
what  could  I  have  said  to  make  him  think  I 
would  go  with  him?"  And  Livingston  Bayley 


98  THE    FESTIVITIES. 

smiled  happily  to  himself  under  the  collar  of 
his  driving  coat;  and  the  sparkling  snow  cut 
into  little  crystals  by  the  horse's  flying  feet, 
dashed  into  their  faces,  and  the  scraps  of  laugh- 
ter and  merry  nonsense  from  the  other  sleighs, 
made  Polly  want  nothing  so  much  as  to  cower 
down  into  the  corner  of  the  big  fur  robes,  for  a 
good  cry. 

And  before  she  knew  it,  Mr.  Bayley  had 
turned  off,  leaving  the  gay  procession  on  the 
main  road. 

"  Oh ! "  cried  Polly  then,  and  starting  for- 
ward, "  Mr.  Bayley,  why,  we're  off  the  road !  " 

"  I  know  a  short  cut  to  the  depot,"  he  an- 
swered hastily,  "  it's  a  better  way." 

"  But  we  may  miss  the  train  —  oh,  do  turn 
back,  and  overtake  them,"  begged  Polly,  in  a 
tremor. 

"  This  is  a  vastly  better  road,"  said  Mr.  Bay- 
ley,  and  instead  of  turning  back,  he  flicked  the 
horse  lightly  with  his  whip.  "  You'll  say,  Miss 
Mary,  that  it's  much  better  this  way."  He  tried 
to  laugh.  "  Isn't  the  sleighing  superb  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes  —  oh  dear  me ! "  cried  poor  Polly, 
straining  her  eyes  to  catch  a  sight  of  the  last 


THE    FESTIVITIES.  99 

vehicle  with  its  merry  load.  "  Indeed,  Mr. 
Bayley,  I'm  afraid  we  sha'n't  get  to  the  depot  in 
time.  There  may  be  drifts  on  this  road,  or 
something  to  delay  us." 

"  Oh,  no,  indeed !  "  cried  Livingston  Bayley 
confidently,  now  smiling  again  at  his  fore- 
thought in  driving  over  this  very  identical 
piece  of  roadway,  when  the  preparations  for 
the  Christmas  festivity  were  keeping  all  the 
other  people  busy  at  Dunraven,  and  leaving 
him  free  to  provide  himself  with  sleighing 
facilities  for  the  evening.  "  Don't  be  troubled, 
I  know  all  about  it ;  I  assure  you,  Miss  Mary, 
we  shall  reach  the  depot  as  soon  as  the  rest  of 
the  party  do,  for  it's  really  a  shorter  cut." 

Polly  beat  her  foot  impatiently  on  the  warm 
foot-muff  he  had  wrung  with  difficulty  from 
the  lively  keeper,  and  counted  the  moments, 
unable  to  say  a  word. 

"  Miss  Mary "  —  suddenly  Mr.  Livingston 
Bayley  turned  —  "  everything  is  forgiven  under 
such  circumstances,  I  believe,"  and  he  laughed. 

Polly  didn't  speak,  only  half  hearing  the 
words,  her  heart  on  the  rest  of  the  party,  every 
instant  being  carried  further  from  her. 


100  THE    FESTIVITIES. 

"And  you  must  have  seen  —  Jpon  me  word, 
it  is  impossible  that  you  didn't  see  that  — 
that "  — 

"  Oh,  dear,"  burst  out  Polly  suddenly,  and 
peering  anxiously  down  the  white  winding  high- 
way. "  If  there  should  be  a  drift  on  the  road  ! ' 

Livingston  Bayley  bit  his  lip  angrily.  "  Ton 
me  word,  Miss  Mary,"  he  began,  "  you  are  the 
nrst  girl  I  ever  cared  to  speak  to,  and  now  you 
can't  think  of  anything  but  the  roads." 

Still  Polly  peered  into  the  unbroken  white- 
ness of  the  thoroughfare,  lined  by  the  snow- 
laden  pines  and  spruces,  all  inextricably  mixed 
as  the  sleigh  spun  by.  It  was  too  late  to  turn 
back  now,  she  knew;  the  best  that  could  be 
done,  was  to  hurry  on  —  and  she  began  to 
count  the  hoof-beats  and  to  speculate  how  long 
it  would  be  before  they  would  see  the  lights  of 
the  little  station,  and  find  the  lost  party  again. 

"  I  might  have  spoken  to  a  great  many  other 
girjs,"  Livingston  Bayley  was  saying,  "  and  I 
really  don't  know  why  I  didn't  choose  one  of 
them.  Another  man  in  ray  place  would,  and 
you  must  do  me  the  justice  to  acknowledge  it ; 
'pon  me  word,  you  must,  Miss  Mary." 


THE    FESTIVITIES.  101 

Polly  tore  off  her  gaze  from  the  snowy  fields 
where  the  branches  of  the  trees  were  making 
little  zigzag  paths  in  the  moonlight,  to  fasten  it 
on  as  much  of  his  face  as  was  visible  between 
his  cap  and  his  high  collar. 

"And  I  really  shouldn't  think  you  would 
play  with  me,"  declared  Mr.  Bayley,  nervously 
lingering  the  whip-handle,  "  I  shouldn't,  don't 
you  know,  because  you  are  not  the  sort  of  girl 
to  do  that  thing.  'Pon  me  word,  you're  not, 
Miss  Mary." 

"  I  ?  what  do  you  mean  ? "  cried  poor  Polly, 
growing  more  and  more  bewildered. 

"  Why  I  —  I  —  of  course  you  must  know  ; 
'pon  me  word,  you  must,  Miss  Mary,  for  it  be- 
gan five  years  ago,  before  you  went  abroad, 
don't  you  know?" 

Polly  sank  back  among  her  fur  robes  while 
he  went  on. 

"And  Pve  done  what  no  other  fellow  would, 
I'm  sure,"  he  said  incoherently,  "  in  my  place, 
kept  constant,  don't  you  know,  to  one  idea. 
Been  with  other  girls,  of  course,  but  only  really 
made  up  my  mind  to  marry  you.  'Pon  me 
word,  I  didn't,  Miss  Mary." 


102  THE    FESTIVITIES. 

"And  you've  brought  me  out,  away  from 
the  rest  of  the  party,  to  tell  me  this,"  exclaimed 
Polly,  springing  forward  to  sit  erect  with  flash- 
ing eyes.  "  How  good  of  you,  Mr.  Bayley,  to 
announce  your  intention  to  marry  me." 

"  You  can't  blame  me,"  cried  Mr.  Bayley  in 
an  injured  way.  "That  cad  of  a  Longhead 
means  to  speak  soon  —  'pon  me  word,  the  fel- 
low does.  And  I've  never  changed  my  mind 
about  it  since  I  made  it  up,  even  when  you  be- 
gan to  give  music  lessons." 

"  Oh,  how  extremely  kind,"  cried  Polly. 

"  Don't  put  it  that  way,"  he  began  deprecat- 
ingly.  "I  couldn't  help  it,  don't  you  know,  for 
I  liked  you  awfully  from  the  first,  and  always 
intended  to  marry  you.  You  shall  have  every- 
thing in  the  world  that  you  want,  and  go  every- 
where. And  my  family,  you  know,  has  an  entree 
to  any  society  that's  worth  anything." 

"  I  wouldn't  marry  you,"  cried  Polly  stormily, 
"  if  you  could  give  me  all  the  gold  in  the  world ; 
and  as  for  family,"  here  she  sat  quite  erect  with 
shining  eyes,  "the  Peppers  have  always  been 
the  loveliest  people  that  ever  lived  —  the  very 
loveliest  —  oh  "  —  she  broke  off  suddenly,  start- 


THE    FESTIVITIES.  103 

ing  forward  —  "  there's  something  on  the  road  ; 
see,  Mr.  Bayley !  " 

And  spinning  along,  the  horse  now  making 
up  his  mind  to  get  to  the  depot  in  time,  they 
both  saw  a  big  wagon  out  of  which  protruded 
two  or  three  bags  evidently  containing  apples 
and  potatoes ;  one  of  the  wheels  determin- 
ing to  perform  no  more  service  for  its  mas- 
ter, was  resting  independently  on  the  snowy 
thoroughfare,  for  horse  and  driver  were  gone. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  exclaimed  Mr.  Living- 
ston Bayley  suddenly,  at  sight  of  this,  "for 
bringing  you  around  here.  But  how  was  I  to 
know  of  that  beastly  wreck  ?  " 

"  We  must  get  out,"  said  Polly,  springing  off 
from  her  side  of  the  sleigh,  "  and  lead  the  horse 
around." 

But  this  was  not  so  easy  a  matter ;  for  the 
farmer's  wagon  had  stopped  in  the  narrowest 
part  of  the  road,  either  side  shelving  off,  under 
its  treacherous  covering  of  snow.  At  last,  after 
all  sorts  of  ineffectual  attempts  on  Mr.  Bayley's 
part  to  induce  the  horse  to  stir  a  step,  Polly 
desperately  laid  her  hand  on  the  bridle.  "  Let 
me  try,"  she  said.  "  There,  you  good  creature," 


104  THE    FESTIVITIES. 

patting  the  horse's  nose ;  "  come,  that's  a  dear 
old  fellow,"  and  they  never  knew  quite  how, 
but  in  the  course  of  time,  they  were  all  on  the 
other  side  of  the  wreck,  and  Mr.  Livingston 
Bayley  was  helping  her  into  the  sleigh,  and 
showering  her  with  profuse  apologies  for  the 
whole  thing. 

"Never  mind,"  said  Polly,  as  she  saw  his 
distress,  "  only  never  say  such  perfectly  dread- 
ful things  to  me  again.  And  now,  hurry  just 
as  fast  as  you  can,  please  ! " 

And  presently  a  swift  turn  brought  the  twink- 
ling lights  of  the  little  station  to  view,  and  there 
was  the  entire  party  calling  to  them  as  they  now 
spied  their  approach,  to  "  Hurry  up  ! "  and  there 
also  was  the  train,  holding  its  breath  in  curbed 
impatience  to  be  off. 


CHAPTER   V. 

BAD    NEWS. 

4 4  AH,  Mamsie,"  cried  Polly  in  dismay,  " must 
U  Papa  Fisher  know  ?  " 

"  Certainly,"  said  Mrs.  Fisher  firmly,  "  your 
father  must  be  told  every  thing." 

"  Dear  me !  "  exclaimed  Polly,  turning  off  in 
dismay,  "  it  seems  so  —  so  unfair  to  Mr.  Bayley. 
Mightn't  it  be  just  as  if  he  hadn't  spoken, 
Mamsie  ?"  She  came  back  now  to  her  mother's 
side,  and  looked  anxiously  into  the  black  eyes. 

"  But  he  has  spoken,"  said  Mother  Fisher, 
"  and  your  father  must  be  told.  Why,  Polly, 
that  isn't  like  you,  child,  to  want  to  keep  any- 
thing from  him,"  she  added  reproachfully. 

"  Oh !  I  don't  —  I  couldn't  ever  in  all  this 
world  keep  anything  from  Father  Fisher,"  de- 
clared Polly  vehemently,  "  only,"  and  the  color 
flew  in  rosy  waves  over  her  face,  "  this  doesn't 
105 


106  BAD    NEWS. 

seem  like  my  secret,  Mamsie.  And  Mr.  Bay- 
ley  would  feel  so  badly  to  have  it  known,"  and 
her  head  drooped. 

"  Still  it  must  be  known  by  your  father," 
said  her  mother  firmly,  "  and  I  must  tell  Mr. 
King.  Then  it  need  go  no  further." 

"  Oh,  Mamsie !  "  exclaimed  Polly,  in  a  sharp 
tone  of  distress,  "  you  wouldn't  ever  in  all  this 
world  tell  Grandpapa !  " 

"  I  most  certainly  shall,"  declared  Mrs.  Fisher. 
"  He  ought  to  know  everything  that  concerns 
you,  Polly,  and  each  one  of  you  children.  It 
is  his  right." 

Polly  sat  down  in  the  nearest  chair  and 
clasped  her  hands.  "Grandpapa  will  show 
Mr.  Bayley  that  he  doesn't  like  it,"  she 
mourned,  "  and  it  will  hurt  his  feelings." 

Mrs.  Fisher's  lip  curled.  "  No  more  do  I 
like  it,"  she  said  curtly.  "In  the  first  place  to 
speak  to  you  at  all ;  and  then  to  take  such  a 
way  to  do  it;  it  wasn't  a  nice  thing  at  all, 
child,  for  Mr.  Bayley  to  do,"  here  Mrs.  Fisher 
walked  to  the  window,  her  irritation  getting 
the  better  of  her,  so  that  Polly  might  not  see 
her  face. 


BAD    NEWS.  107 

"  But  he  didn't  mean  to  speak  then  — -  that 
is  "  —  began  Polly. 

"  He  should  have  spoken  to  your  father  or 
to  Mr.  King,"  said  Mrs.  Fisher,  coming  back  to 
face  Polly,  "  but  I  presume  the  young  man 
didn't  know  any  better,  or  at  least,  he  didn't 
think,  and  that's  enough  to  say  about  that. 
But  as  for  not  telling  Mr.  King  about  it,  why, 
it  isn't  to  be  thought  of  for  a  minute.  So  I 
best  have  it  over  with  at  once."  And  with  a 
reassuring  smile  at  Polly  she  went  out,  and 
closed  the  door. 

"  Oh,  dear  me,"  cried  poor  Polly,  left  alone  ; 
and  springing  out  of  her  chair,  she  began  to 
pace  the  floor.  "  Now  it  will  be  perfectly 
dreadful  for  Mr.  Bayley.  Grandpapa  will  be 
very  angry ;  he  never  liked  him ;  and  now 
he  can't  help  showing  what  he  feels.  Oh! 
why  did  Mr.  Bayley  speak." 

"  Polly,"  called  Jasper's  voice,  out  in  the  hall. 

For  the  first  time  in  her  life,  she  felt  like 
running  away  from  his  call.  "  Oh !  I  can't  go 
out ;  he'll  guess  something  is  the  matter,"  she 
cried  to  herself. 

"  Polly  ?  "  and  there  was  a  rap  at  the  door. 


108  BAD    NEWS. 

"  Yes,"  said  Polly  from  within. 

"  Can  I  see  you  a  minute  ?  " 

Polly  slowly  opened  the  door,  and  tried  to 
lift  her  brown  eyes  to  his  face. 

"  Oh,  Polly,"  he  pretended  not  to  notice  any 
thing  amiss  with  her,  "  I  came  to  tell  you  first ; 
and  you  can  help  me  to  break  it  to  father." 

"  Oh,  what  is  it  ? "  cried  Polly,  looking  up 
quickly.  "  Oh,  Jasper,"  as  she  saw  that  his 
face  was  drawn  with  the  effort  not  to  let  her 
see  the  distress  he  was  in. 

He  tried  to  cover  up  his  anxiety,  but  she  saw 
a  yellow  paper  in  his  hand.  "  Oh,  Jasper,  you've 
a  telegram,"  she  cried  breathlessly. 

"  Polly,"  said  Jasper.  He  took  her  hand  and 
held  it  firmly,  "  you  will  help  father  and  me  to 
bear  it,  I  know." 

"  Oh,  Jasper,  I  will,"  promised  Polly,  cling- 
ing to  his  hand.  "  Don't  be  afraid  to  tell  me, 
Jasper." 

"  Listen ;  Marian  has  been  thrown  from  her 
sleigh  this  morning  ;  the  horses  ran,"  said  Jas- 
per hurriedly.  "  The  telegram  says  '  Come.' 
She  may  be  living,  Polly  ;  don't  look  so." 

For  the  room  grew  suddenly  so  dark  to  her 


BAD  NEWS.  109 

that  she  wavered  and  would  have  fallen  had  he 
not  caught  her.  "I  won't  faint,"  she  cried, 
"  Jasper,  don't  be  afraid.  There,  I'm  all  right. 
Now,  oh,  what  can  I  do  ?  " 

"  Could  you  go  with  me  when  I  tell  father  ?  " 
asked  Jasper.  "  I  am  so  afraid  I  shall  break  it 
to  him  too  sharply ;  and  you  know  it  won't  do 
for  him  to  be  startled.  If  you  could,  Polly." 

For  the  second  time,  everything  seemed  to 
turn  black  before  her  eyes,  but  Polly  said 
bravely,  "Yes,  I'll  go,  Jasper."  And  pres- 
ently, they  hardly  knew  how,  the  two  found 
themselves  at  old  Mr.  King's  door. 

There  was  a  sound  of  voices  within.  "  Oh, 
dear  me  !  "  exclaimed  Polly,  "  I  forgot  Mamsie 
was  here." 

Jasper  looked  his  surprise,  but  said  nothing, 
and  as  they  stood  there  irresolutely,  Mrs.  Fisher 
opened  the  door  and  came  out. 

"  Why,  Polly ! "  she  exclaimed. 

"Oh,  Mrs.  Fisher,"  cried  Jasper,  "we  can't 
explain  now,  we  must  see  father.  But  Polly 
will  go  and  tell  you,"  and  in  another  minute 
they  were  both  standing  before  Mr.  King. 

The  old  gentleman  was  walking  up  and  down 


110  BAD    NEWS. 

his  apartment,  fuming  at  every  step.  "  The  pre- 
sumption of  the  fellow !  How  did  he  dare  with- 
out speaking  to  me!  Oh,  eh,  Polly"  —and 
then  he  caught  sight  of  Jasper,  back  of  her. 

"Father,"  began  Jasper,  "I've  had  a  tele- 
gram from  brother  Mason." 

"  Oh,  now  what  has  he  been  doing  ?  "  cried 
Mr.  King  irritably.  "  I  do  wish  Mason  wouldn't 
be  so  abrupt  in  his  movements.  I  suppose  he 
is  going  abroad  again.  Well,  let's  hear." 

Jasper  tried  to  speak,  but  instead,  looked  at 
Polly. 

"Dear  Grandpapa,"  cried  Polly,  going  un- 
steadily to  the  old  gentleman's  side,  and  taking 
his  hand  in  both  of  hers.  "  Oh,  we  must  tell 
you  something  very  bad,  and  we  don't  know 
how  to  tell  it,  Grandpapa."  She  looked  up 
piteously  into  his  face. 

Old  Mr.  King  put  forth  his  other  hand,  and 
seized  the  back  of  a  chair  to  steady  himself. 
"  Tell  me  at  once,  Polly,"  he  said  hoarsely. 
"  It  isn't  —  Marian  ?  "  It  was  all  he  could  do 
to  utter  the  name. 

"  She  is  hurt,"  said  Polly,  going  to  the  heart 
of  the  matter  without  delay,  "  but  oh,  Grand- 


BAD    NEWS. 


Ill 


papa,  it  may  not  be  very  badly,  and  they*want 
Jasper  to  go  on  to  New  York." 

Mr.  King  turned  to  Jasper.     "  Give  me  the 


"WE  DON'T  KNOW  HOW  TO  TELL,  IT,  GRANDPAPA." 

telegram,  my  boy,"  he  said  through  white  lips ; 
when  it  was  all  read,  "  Now  tell  Philip  to  pack 
me  a  portmanteau." 


112  BAD    NEWS. 

"  Father,"  said  Jasper,  "  you  are  not  going  ?  " 

"  No  questions  are  to  be  asked,  Jasper,"  said 
his  father.  "  Be  so  good  as  to  see  that  Philip 
packs  quickly,  and  that  you  are  ready.  And 
now,  Polly,"  the  old  gentleman  turned  to  her, 
"  I  want  to  take  you  along,  child,  if  your  mother 
is  willing.  Will  you  go  ?  " 

"  Oh,  Grandpapa,"  cried  Polly,  "  if  I  only 
may ;  oh,  do  take  me." 

"  I  don't  want  to  go  without  you,"  said  Mr. 
King.  "  There,  run,  child,  and  ask  your 
mother  if  you  may  go.  Send  Phronsie  to 
me  ;  I  must  explain  matters  to  her  and  bid  her 
good-by." 

Alexia  and  some  of  the  other  girls  were  hur- 
rying in  the  east  doorway  of  the  King  man- 
sion, an  hour  later.  "  Oh,  where's  Polly,  Mrs. 
Fisher  ?  "  cried  Cathie  Harrison. 

"  Polly  has  gone,"  said  Mrs.  Fisher,  coming 
down  the  stairs.  She  looked  as  if  she  wanted 
to  cry,  but  her  hands  held  the  basket  of  sewing 
as  firmly  as  if  no  bad  news  had  fallen  upon  the 
home. 

"Gone?"  cried  all  the  girls.  "Oh,  Mrs. 
Fisher,  where  ?  Do  tell  us  where  Polly  is  ?  " 


BAD    NEWS.  113 

,  For  answer  Mrs.  Fisher  made  them  all  go 
into  the  little  reception  room  in  an  angle  of  the 
hall,  where  she  told  them  the  whole  story. 

"  If  that  isn't  perfectly  dreadful,"  cried  Alexia 
Rhys,  throwing  her  muff  into  a  chair,  and  her- 
self on  an  ottoman.  "  Why,  we  were  going  to 
make  up  a  theater  party  for  to-morrow  night, 
Mrs.  Fisher,  and  now  Polly  is  gone." 

Her  look  of  dismay  was  copied  by  every  girl 
so  exactly,  that  Mrs.  Fisher  had  no  relief  in 
turning  to  any  of  the  other  four. 

"  And  there  is  her  Recital  —  what  will  she 
do  about  that?"  cried  Alexia,  rushing  on  in  her 
complaint.  "Perhaps  she'll  give  it  up,  after 
all,"  she  added,  brightening.  "Now  I  most 
know  she  will,  Mrs.  Fisher,"  and  she  started 
up  and  began  to  pirouette  around  the  room. 

"  Of  course  she  has  had  to  postpone  it,"  said 
Mrs.  Fisher,  looking  after  her,  "  and  she  told 
Joel  to  write  the  notes  to  the  pupils  explaining 
matters.  But  never  you  fear,  Alexia,  that  Polly 
will  give  up  that  Recital  for  good  and  all,"  she 
added,  with  a  wise  nod  at  her. 

"  Well,  she  must  give  it  up  for  now  anyway," 
said  Alexia,  coming  to  a  pause  to  take  breath, 


114  BAD    NEWS. 

"  that's  some  comfort.  To  think  of  Joe  writing 
Polly's  notes  to  the  girls,  oh,  dear  me ! " 

"  Let  us  go  and  help  him,"  proposed  Cathie 
Harrison  suddenly.  "  He  must  hate  to  do  such 
poky  work." 

"  Oh,  dear  me,"  began  Alexia,  taking  up  her 
little  bag  to  look  at  the  tiny  watch  in  one  cor- 
ner. "  We  haven't  the  time.  Yes  —  come 
on,"  she  burst  out  incoherently;  "where  is  he, 
Mrs.  Fisher?" 

"  In  the  library,  hard  at  work,"  said  Mrs. 
Fisher,  with  a  bright  smile  at  them  all. 

"Come  on,  girls,"  said  Alexia,  rushing  on. 
"  Now  that's  what  I  admire  Mrs.  Fisher  for," 
she  said,  when  they  were  well  in  the  hall,  "she 
shows  when  she's  not  pleased,  and  when  she 
likes  what  a  body  does,  as  well." 

"  I  think  she's  just  elegant,"  declared  Cathie 
Harrison,  who  had  privately  done  a  good  deal 
of  worshiping  at  Mrs.  Fisher's  shrine. 

"  She's  a  dear,"  voted  Alexia.  u  Well,  do 
come  on.  Oh,  Joe ! "  as  they  reached  the 
library  door. 

Joel  sat  back  of  the  writing  table,  a  mass 
of  Polly's  note  paper  and  envelopes  sprawled 


BAD    NEWS.  115 

before  him,  his  head  on  his  hands  and  his 
elbows  on  the  table.  Back  of  him  paced 
Pickering  Dodge  with  a  worried  expression  of 
countenance. 

"You  do  look  so  funny,"  burst  out  Alexia 
with  a  laugh  ;  "  doesn't  he,  girls  ?  "  to  the  bright 
bevy  following  her. 

"  I  guess  you  would  if  you  were  in  my  place," 
growled  Joel,  scarcely  giving  them  a  glance. 
"Go  away,  Alexia;  you  can't  get  me  into  a 
scrape  this  morning  —  I've  to  dig  at  this." 

"  I  don't  want  to  get  you  into  a  scrape," 
cried  Alexia,  with  a  cold  shoulder  to  Pickering, 
who  had  been  claimed  by  the  other  girls,  "  we're 
going  to  help  you." 

"Is  that  so?"  cried  Joel  radiantly;  "then  I 
say  you're  just  jolly,  Alexia,"  and  he  beamed 
at  her. 

"  Yes,  we  want  to  help,"  echoed  Cathie,  draw- 
ing up  a  chair  to  the  other  side  of  the  table. 
"  Now  do  set  us  to  work,  Joel." 

"Indeed  and  I  will,"  he  cried,  spreading  a 
clear  place  with  a  reckless  hand. 

"Take  care,"  warned  Alexia,  "take  care; 
you  are  spoiling  all  Polly's  note  paper.  I 


116  BAD    NEWS. 

wouldn't  let  you  at  my  things,  I  can  tell  you, 
Joel  Pepper ! " 

"  As  if  I'd  ever  do  this  sort  of  thing  for  you, 
Alexia,"  threw  back  Joel. 

"  Well,  do  let  us  begin,"  begged  Cathie,  im- 
patiently drumming  on  the  table,  as  the  other 
two  girls  and  Pickering  Dodge  drew  near. 

"Yes,  do,"  cried  the  girls,  "and  we'll  toss 
those  notes  off  in  no  time." 

"  I'll  help  you  clear  the  table,"  cried  Picker- 
ing; "  do  let  me.  I  can't  write  those  notes,  but 
I  can  get  the  place  ready ; "  and  he  began  to 
pile  the  books  on  a  chair.  As  he  went  around 
to  Alexia's  place  she  looked  up  and  fixed  her 
gaze  past  him,  not  noticing  his  attempt  to  speak. 

"  All  right ;  if  she  wants  to  act  like  that,  I'm 
willing,"  said  Pickering  to  himself  savagely  and 
coolly  going  on  with  his  'work. 

"Oh,  dear  me,"  groaned  Cathie  Harrison, 
"isn't  it  perfectly  dreadful  to  have  that  dear 
sweet  Mrs.  Whitney  hurt?" 

"  Ow ! "  exclaimed  Joel. 

"Do  stop,"  cried  Alexia  with  a  nudge. 
"  Haven't  you  any  more  sense,  Cathie  Harrison, 
than  to  speak  of  it?" 


BAD    NEWS.  119 

Cathie  smothered  a  retort,  and  bit  her  lips  to 
keep  it  back. 

"  Well,  dear  me,  we  are  not  working  much," 
cried  Alexia,  pulling  off  her  gloves;  "how 
many  notes  have  you  to  write,  Joe  ?  " 

"  Oh,  a  dozen,  I  believe,"  said  Joel ;  "  that  is, 
counting  this  one." 

"  To  whom  is  that  ? "  asked  Alexia,  peering 
over  his  shoulder.  "  Oh,  to  Amy  Loughead." 

"Yes,  I  promised  Polly  this  should  go  first. 
That  Loughead  girl  was  expecting  her  over 
this  morning.  Oh,  she's  a  precious  nuisance," 
grumbled  Joel,  dipping  his  pen  in  the  ink. 

"  Well,  then,  I  will  write  to  Desiree  Frye," 
said  Alexia.  "  She  was  going  to  play  a  solo, 
Polly  said,  at  the  Recital.  Oh,  dear  me,  what 
shall  I  say?" 

"  Polly  said  tell  them  all  what  had  happened, 
and  that  she  should  stay  away  as  long  as  Aunty 
needed  her,  but  she  hoped  to  be  home  soon, 
and  she  would  write  them  from  New  York." 

"  Oh,  Joe,  what  a  lot,"  exclaimed  Alexia, 
leaving  her  pen  poised  in  mid  air. 

"  Cut  it  short,  then,"  said  Joel.  "  I  don't 
care,  only  that's  the  sense  of  it." 


120  BAD    NEWS. 

"  Oh,  dear,"  began  one  of  the  girls,  "  I  can't 
bear  to  write  of  the  accident,  and  in  the  holi- 
days, too." 

Alexia  made  an  uneasy  gesture,  scrawled  two 
or  three  words,  then  threw  down  her  pen  and 
got  out  of  her  chair.  "  It's  no  use,"  she  cried, 
running  up  to  Pickering,  who,  his  hands  in  his 
pockets,  had  his  back  to  them  all,  and  was  look- 
ing out  of  the  window.  "  I  can't  let  myself  do 
anything  till  I've  said  I'm  sorry  I  was  so  cross," 
and  she  put  out  her  hand. 

^  Eh  ?  "  exclaimed  Pickering,  whirling  around 
in  astonishment.  "  Oh,  dear  me ! "  and  he 
pulled  his  right  hand  out  of  his  pocket,  and 
extended  it  to  her. 

"  Mrs.  Whitney  has  got  hurt,  and  she  was 
always  sweet,  and  never  said  cross  things,  and 
oh,  dear  me  !  "  cried  Alexia  incoherently,  as  he 
shook  her  hand  violently. 

"  And  I'm  glad  enough  to  have  it  made  up," 
declared  Pickering  decidedly.  "  It's  bad  enough 
to  have  so  much  trouble  in  the  world,  without 
getting  into  fights  with  people  you've  known 
ever  since  you  can  remember." 

"  Trouble  ?  "    repeated  Alexia  wonderingly. 


BAD    NEWS.  121 

"  Oh,  yes,  Mrs.  Whitney's  accident,  you  mean  ; 
I  know  it's  awful  for  all  of  us." 

Pickering  Dodge  turned  on  his  heel  and 
walked  off  abruptly,  and  she  ran  back  to  her 
work  with  a  final  stare  at  him. 

"1  know  now,"  she  said  to  herself  wisely, 
"  and  I've  been  mean  enough  to  hurt  him  when 
he  was  bearing  it.  Oh,  dear  me,  things  are 
getting  so  mixed  up  !  " 

"  Polly,  you  won't  leave  me,  will  you,  till  I 
get  able  to  sit  up?"  cried  Mrs.  Whitney  one 
day,  a  week  after. 

"  No,  Aunty,  indeed  I  won't,"  declared  Polly, 
leaning  over  to  drop  a  kiss  on  the  soft  hair 
against  the  pillows. 

Mrs.  Whitney  put  up  her  hands  to  draw 
down  the  young  face. 

"  Oh,  Aunty !  "  exclaimed  Polly  in  dismay, 
"  be  careful ;  you  know  doctor  said  you  mustn't 
raise  your  arms." 

"  Well,  just  let  me  kiss  you,  dear,  then,"  said 
Mrs.  Whitney  with  a  wan  little  smile.  "  Oh, 
Polly,"  when  the  kiss  and  two  or  three  others 
had  been  dropped  on  the  rosy  cheek,  "  you  are 
sure  you  can  stay  with  me  ?  " 


122  BAD    NEWS. 

"  I'm  sure  I  can,  and  I  will,"  said  Polly  firmly. 
"  Oh,  Aunty,  I  shall  be  so  glad  to  be  with  you  ; 
you  can't  think  how  glad." 

She  softly  patted  the  pillows  into  the  position 
Mrs.  Whitney  best  liked,  and  then  stood  off  a 
bit  and  beamed  at  her. 

"  It's  dreadfully  selfish  in  me  to  keep  you," 
said  Mrs.  Whitney,  "  when  you  love  your  work 
so ;  and  what  will  the  music  scholars  do,  Polly  ?  " 

"Oh,  they  are  all  right,"  said  Polly  gaily; 
"  they're  working  like  beavers.  Indeed,  Aunty, 
I  believe  they'll  practice  a  great  deal  more  than 
if  I  were  home  to  be  talking  to  them  all  the 
while." 

"You  are  a  dear  blessed  comfort,  Polly," 
said  Mrs.  Whitney,  turning  on  her  pillow  with 
a  sigh  of  relief.  "  Now  I  do  believe  I  shall  get 
up  very  soon.  But  Jasper  must  go  back;  it 
won't  do  for  him  to  stay  away  any  longer  from 
his  business.  Promise  me,  Polly,  that  you  will 
make  him  see  that  he  ought  to  go." 

"  I'll  try,  Aunty,"  said  Polly,  "  and  now  that 
you  are  so  much  better,  why,  I  do  believe  that 
Jasper  will  be  willing  to  go." 

"  Oh,  do  make  him,"  begged  Mrs.  Whitney, 


BAD    NEWS.  123 

and  then  she  tucked  her  hand  under  her  cheek, 
and  the  first  thing  Polly  knew  she  heard  the 
slow,  regular  breathing  that  told  she  was  asleep. 

"Now  that's  just  lovely,"  cried  Polly  softly, 
"  and  I  will  run  and  speak  to  Jasper  this  very 
minute,  for  he  really  ought  to  go  back  to  his 
business." 

But  instead  of  doing  this,  she  met  a  young 
girl,  as  she  was  running  through  the  hall,  who 
stopped  her  and  asked,  "  Can  I  see  Mr.  King  ?  " 

"  What !  "  cried  Polly,  astonished  that  the 
domestics  had  admitted  any  one,  as  it  was 
against  the  orders. 

"  Oh,  I  am  a  relation,"  said  the  girl  coolly, 
"  and  I  told  the  man  at  the  door  that  I  should 
come  in ;  and  he  said  then  I  must  wait,  for  I 
could  not  see  Mr.  King  now,  and  he  put  me 
up  in  that  little  reception  room,  but  I  just 
walked  out  to  meet  the  first  person  coming  in 
the  hall.  Will  you  be  so  kind  as  to  arrange  it  ?  " 

She  looked  as  if  she  fully  expected  to  have 
her  wish  fulfilled,  and  her  gaze  wandered  con- 
fidently around  the  picture-hung  wall,  until 
such  time  as  Polly  could  answer. 

"  I'll  see,"  said  Polly,  who  couldn't  help  smil- 


124  BAD    NEWS. 

ing,  "  what  I  can  do  for  you ;  but  you  mustn't 
be  disappointed  if  Grandpapa  doesn't  feel  able 
to  see  you.  He  is  very  much  occupied,  you 
know,  with  his  daughter's  ill "  — 

"  Oh,  I  understand,"  said  the  other  girl,  guilty 
of  interrupting,  "  but  he  will  see  me,  I  know," 
and  her  light  blue  eyes  were  as  calm  as  ever. 

"  Who  shall  I  tell  him  wants  to  see  him  ? " 
asked  Polly,  her  own  eyes  wide  at  the  stranger 
and  her  ways. 

"  Oh,  you  needn't  tell  him  any  name,"  said 
the  girl  carelessly. 

"  Then  I  certainly  shall  not  tell  him  you  wish 
to  see  him,  unless  I  carry  your  name  to  him," 
Polly  said  quite  firmly,  and  she  looked  steadily 
into  the  fair  face  before  her. 

"  Oh,  dear  me,"  said  the  girl ;  "  well,  you  may 
say  I  am  Mr.  Alexander  Chatterton's  daughter 
Charlotte." 

Polly  kept  herself  from  starting  as  the  name 
met  her  ear.  "  Very  well,"  she  said,  "  I  will  do 
what  I  can,"  moving  off.  "O,  Grandpapa!" 

For  down  the  hall  came  Mr.  King  in  velvet 
morning  jacket  and  cap. 

"  Hoity-toity,  I  thought  no  one  was  to  be 


BAB   NEWS  125 

admitted,"  he  exclaimed,  as  he  neared  the  dooi . 

"  Grandpapa,"  Polly  endeavored  to  draw  him 
off,  but  the  young  girl  ran  past  her. 

"  Mr.  King,"  she  said  quickly,  "  I  am  Char- 
iotte  Chatterton." 

«  The  dickens  you  are ! "  exclaimed  the  old 
gentleman,  looking  her  full  in  the  face. 

"  Yes,  sir  ;  and  my  father  is  very  ill."  For 
a  moment  her  voice  trembled,  but  she  quickly 
recovered  herself.  "  It  isn't  money  I  want,  Mr. 
King,"  and  she  threw  her  head  back  proudly, 
"  but  oh,  will  you  come  and  see  father  ?  " 

Mr.  King  looked  at  her  again,  then  over  at 
Polly.  "  Bring  her  in  here,"  he  said,  pointing 
to  the  same  little  reception  room  that  Charlotte 
had  deserted,  "  I  want  you  to  stay,  too,  Polly," 
and  the  door  closed  upon  them. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

OF    MANY    THINGS. 

44  A  ND  father  has  asked  her  to  go  home 

li.  when  you  and  he  go!"  cried  Jasper 
in  irritation. 

"  Yes,"  said  Polly ;  "  oh,  Jasper,  never  mind ; 
I  daresay  it  will  be  for  the  best ;  and  I'm  so 
sorry  for  Charlotte." 

"  She'll  be  no  end  of  bother  to  you,  I  know," 
said  Jasper.  "  And  you  must  take  her  every- 
where, Polly,  and  look  out  for  her.  What  was 
father  thinking  of?"  He  could  nbt  conceal 
his  annoyance,  and  Polly  put  aside  her  own 
dismayed  feelings  at  the  new  programme,  to 
help  him  into  his  usual  serene  mood. 

"  But  think,  Jasper,  how  she  has  never  had 
any  fun  all  her  life,  and  now  her  father  is  sick. I' 

"  She'd  much  better  stay  and  take  care  of 
him,"  declared  Jasper. 

126 


OF    MANY    THINGS.  127 

"  But  he's  sick  because  he  has  worried  so,  I 
do  believe,"  Polly  went  on,  "  for  you  ought  to 
have  seen  his  face  when  we  took  Charlotte 
home,  and  Grandpapa  talked  with  him,  and 
asked  him  to  let  Charlotte  pass  the  rest  of  the 
winter  with  us.  Oh,  I  am  glad,  Jasper,  for  I 
do  like  Charlotte." 

"  The  girl  may  be  well  enough,"  said  Jasper 
shortly,  "  but  she  will  bother  you,  nevertheless, 
Polly,  I  am  afraid." 

"Never  mind,"  said  Polly  brightly,  with  a 
little  pang  at  her  heart  for  the  nice  times  with 
the  girls  that  now  must  be  shared  with  another. 
"  Grandpapa  thought  he  ought  to  do  it,  I  sup- 
pose, and  that's  enough." 

"  It  does  seem  as  if  the  Chattertons  would 
never  be  done  annoying  us,"  said  Jasper 
gloomily.  "  Now  when  we  once  get  this  girl 
fastened  on  iis,  there'll  be  an  end  to  the  hope 
of  shaking  her  off." 

"  Perhaps  we  sha'n't  want  to,"  said  Polly 
merrily,  "  for  Charlotte  may  turn  out  perfectly 
lovely ;  I  do  believe  she's  going  to."  And  then 
she  remembered  her  promise  to  Mrs.  Whitney, 
and  she  began  :  "  Aunty  is  worrying  about 


128  OF   MANY    THINGS. 

your  staying  away  so  long  from  your  business, 
Jasper,  and  she  wants  you  to  go  back." 

A  shade  passed  over  his  face.  "  I  suppose  I 
ought  to  go,  Polly,"  he  said,  and  he  pulled  a 
letter  from  his  pocket  and  held  it  out  to  her. 
"I  was  going  to  show  this  to  you,  only  the 
other  matter  came  up." 

Polly  seized  it  with  dread. 


"We  need  your  services  very  much"  [the  letter 
ran]  "  and  cannot  wait  longer  for  your  return.  We 
are  very  sorry  to  be  so  imperative,  but  the  rush  of 
work  at  this  time  of  the  year,  makes  it  necessary  for 
all  our  force  to  be  in  place. 

"  Very  sincerely 

"DAVID  MARLOWE." 


"You  see  they  are  getting  all  the  books 
planned  out,  and  put  in  shape  for  the  next 
year;  and  business  just  rushes,"  cried  Jasper, 
with  shining  eyes,  showing  his  eagerness  to  be 
in  the  midst  of  the  bustle  of  manufacture. 

"  What,  so  early ! "  cried  Polly,  letting  the 
letter  drop.  "  Why,  I  thought  you  didn't  do 
anything  until  spring,  Jasper  —  about  making 
the  books,  I  mean." 

He  laughed.     "  The  travelers  go  out  on  the 


OP    MANY    THINGS.  129 

road  then,"  he  said,  "  with  almost  all  the  books 
ready  to  sell." 

"  Out  on  the  road  ? "  repeated  Polly  in 
amaze.  "  Oh,  what  do  you  mean,  Jasper  ?  " 

"  Well,  you  see  the  business  of  selling  is  a 
good  part  of  it  done  by  salesmen,  who  travel 
with  samples  and  take  advance  orders,"  said 
Jasper,  finding  it  quite  jolly  to  explain  business 
intricacies  to  such  an  eager  listener. 

«  Oh !  "  said  Polly. 

"  And  when  I  get  back  I  shall  be  plunged  at 
once  into  all  the  thick  of  the  manufacturing 
work,"  he  went  on,  straightening  himself  up  ; 
"Mr.  Marlowe  is  as  good  as  he  can  be,  and  he 
has  waited  now  longer  than  he  ought  to." 

"Oh,  you  must  go,  Jasper,"  cried  Polly 
quickly ;  "  at  once,  this  very  day,"  and  her  face 
glowed. 

"  If  you  think  sister  Marian  is  really  well 
enough  to  spare  me,"  he  said,  trying  to  restrain 
his  impatience  to  be  off. 

"Yes — yes,  I  do,"  declared  Polly.  "Doctor 
Palfrey  said  this  morning  that  all  danger  was 
over  now  from  inflammation,  and  really  it 
worries  her  dreadfully  to  think  of  your  being 


180  OP    MANY    THINGS. 

here  any  longer.  It  really  does  hurt  her,  Jas- 
per," repeated  Polly  emphatically. 

"  In  that  case  I'm  off,  then,  this  afternoon," 
said  Jasper,  with  a  glad  ring  in  his  voice. 
"  Polly,  my  work  is  the  very  grandest  in  all 
the  world." 

"  Isn't  it  ?  "  cried  Polly,  with  kindling  eyes ; 
"just  think  —  to  make  good  books,  Jasper,  that 
will  never  stop,  perhaps,  being  read.  Oh,  I 
wish  I  was  a  man  and  could  help  you." 

"  Polly  ?  "  he  stopped  a  minute,  looked  down 
into  her  face,  then  turned  off  abruptly.  "  You 
are  sure  you  won't  bother  yourself  too  much  with 
Charlotte?"  he  said  awkwardly  coming  back. 

"  Yes ;  don't  worry,  Jasper,"  said  Polly,  won- 
dering at  his  unusual  manner. 

"  All  right ;  then  as  soon  as  I've  seen  father 
I'll  throw  my  traps  together  and  be  off,"  de- 
clared Jasper,  quite  like  the  business  man  again. 

But  old  Mr.  King  was  not  to  hear  about  it 
just  then,  for  when  Jasper  rapped  at  his  door, 
it  was  to  find  that  his  father  was  fast  asleep. 

"  See  here,  Jasper,"  said  Mr.  Whitney,  hap- 
pening along  at  this  minute,  "  here's  a  nice 
piece  of  work.  Percy  declares  that  he  shall  be 


or  MANY  THINGS.  131 

made  miserable  to  go  back  to  college  to-morrow. 
His  mother  is  able  now  for  him  to  be  settled  at 
his  studies ;  won't  you  run  up  and  persuade 
him  —  that's  a  good  fellow." 

"  I'm  going  back  to  my  work  to-night,"  cried 
Jasper,  pulling  out  his  watch,  "that  is,  :'i  father 
wakes  up  in  time  for  me  to  take  the  train." 

"Is  that  so?  Good,"  cried  Mr.  Whitney. 
"  Well,  run  along  and  tell  Percy  that,  for  the 
boy  is  so  worried  over  his  mother  that  he  can't 
listen  to  reason." 

So  Jasper  scaled  the  stairs  to  Percy's  den. 

"Well,  old  fellow,  I  thought  I'd  come  up 
and  let  you  know  that  I'm  off  to  my  work," 
announced  Jasper,  putting  his  head  in  the 
doorway. 

"  Eh ! "  cried  Percy,  "  what's  that  ?  " 

"  Why,  I'm  off,  I  say ;  back  to  dig  at  the 
publishing  business.  Your  mother  doesn't  want 
us  fellows  hanging  around  here  any  longer. 
It  worries  her  to  feel  that  we  are  idling." 

"  Is  that  so  ?  "  cried  Percy.  "  How  do  you 
know?" 

"  Polly  says  so ;  she  let  me  into  the  secret ; 
says  sister  Marian  requested  me  to  go  back." 


132  OF    MANY    THINGS. 

"  Did  Polly  really  say  so  ?  "  demanded  Percy 
in  astonishment. 

"  Yes,  in  good  plain  English.     So  I'm  off." 

"  Well,  if  Polly  really  said  that  mamma 
wanted  you  to  go,  why,  I'll  get  back  to  college 
as  soon  as  I  can,"  said  Percy.  "  But  if  she 
should  be  worse  ?  "  He  stopped  short. 

"  They  can  send  for  you  instantly ;  trust 
Polly  for  that,"  said  Jasper.  "  But  she  won't 
be  worse ;  not  unless  we  worry  her  by  not  do- 
ing as  she  wishes.  Well,  good-by,  I'm  off." 

"  So  am  I,"  declared  Percy,  springing  up  to 
throw  his  clothes  into  traveling  order.  "  All 
right,  I'll  take  the  train  with  you,  Jappy." 

"  Now  you  see  how  much  better  I'm  off," 
observed  Van,  coming  in  to  perch  on  the  edge 
of  the  bed  while  Percy  was  hurrying  all  sorts 
of  garments  into  the  trunk  with  a  quick  hand. 
"  I  tell  you,  Percy,  I  struck  good  luck  when  I 
chose  father's  business.  Now  I  don't  have 
to  run  like  a  dog  at  the  beck  of  a  lot  of 
professors." 

"  Every  one  to  his  taste,"  said  Percy,  "  and 
I  can't  bear  father's  business,  for  one." 

"  No,  you'd  rather  sit  up  with  your  glasses 


OF    MANY    THINGS.  loo 

stuck  on  your  nose,  and  learn  how  to  dole  out 
the  law  ;  that's  you,  Percy.  I  say,  I  wouldn't 
try  to  keep  the  things  on,"  with  a  laugh  as  he 
saw  his  brother's  ineffectual  efforts  to  pack, 
and  yet  give  the  attention  to  his  eyeglasses 
that  they  seemed  to  demand. 

"  See  here  now,  Van,"  cried  Percy  warmly, 
"if  you  cannot  help,  you  can  take  yourself 
off.  Goodness!  I  have  left  out  my  box  of 
collars ! " 

"  Here  it  is,"  cried  Van,  throwing  it  to  him 
from  the  bed,  where  it  had  rolled  off  under  a 
pile  of  underclothing.  "  Well,  you  don't  know 
how  the  things  make  you  look.  And  Polly 
doesn't  like  them  a  bit." 

"  How  do  you  know  ? "  demanded  Percy, 
growing  quite  red,  and  desisting  from  his  em- 
ployment a  minute. 

"  Oh,  that's  telling ;  I  know  she  doesn't,"  re- 
plied Van  provokingly. 

For  answer  Van  felt  his  arms  seized,  and 
before  he  knew  it  Percy  was  over  him  and 
holding  him  down  so  that  he  couldn't  stir. 

"  Now  how  do  you  know  that  Polly  doesn't 
like  my  eyeglasses '?  "  he  demanded. 


134  OF    MANY    THINGS. 

«  Qw  —  let  me  up  !  "  cried  Van. 

"  Tell  on,  then.  How  do  you  know  she 
doesn't  like  them  ?  " 

"  Because  —  Let  me  up,  and  I'll  tell." 

"  No,  tell  now,"  said  Percy,  having  har-1 
work  to  keep  Van  from  slipping  out  from 
under  his  hands. 

"  Boys,"  called  Polly's  voice. 

"  Oh  dear  me  —  she's  coming  ! "  exclaimed 
Percy,  jumping  to  his  feet,  and  releasing  Van, 
who,  red  and  shining,  skipped  to  the  door. 
"  Come  in,  Polly." 

"  I  thought  I'd  find  you  up  here,"  said  Polly 
in  great  satisfaction.  "Percy,  can't  I  do  some- 
thing for  you  ?  Jasper  says  you  are  going 
back  to  college  right  away." 

"  Yes,  you  can,"  said  Percy,  "  take  Van  off  ; 
that  would  help  me  more  than  anything  else 
you  could  do." 

Polly  looked  at  Van  and  shook  her  brown 
head  so  disapprovingly  that  he  came  out  of  his 
laugh. 

"  Oh,  I'll  be  good,  Polly,"  he  promised. 

"  See  that  you  are,  then,"  she  said.  Then 
she  went  over  to  the  trunk  and  looked  in. 


OF    MANY    THINGS.  135 

"  Percy,  may  I  take  those  things  out  and  fold 
them  over  again  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Yes,  if  you  want  to,"  said  Percy  shame- 
facedly. "I  suppose  I  have  made  a  mess  of 
them ;  but  it's  too  hard  work  for  you,  Polly." 

"  I  should  like  nothing  better  than  to  attack 
that  trunk,"  declared  Polly  merrily.  "Now, 
Van,  you  come  and  help  me,  that's  a  dear  boy." 

And  in  five  minutes  Polly  and  Van  were 
busily  working  together;  he  putting  in  the 
things,  while  she  neatly  made  them  into  piles, 
and  Percy  sorted  and  gave  orders  like  a 
general. 

"  He  does  strut  around  so,"  said  Van  under 
his  breath,  "just  see  him  now." 

"  Hush  —  oh,  Van,  how  can  you  ?  and  he's 
going  back  to  college,  and  you  won't  see  him 
for  ever  so  many  weeks." 

Van  swallowed  something  in  his  throat,  and 
bent  all  his  energies  to  settling  the  different 
articles  in  the  trunk. 

"  Percy,"  said  Polly  presently  in  a  lull,  "  I 
do  just  envy  you  for  one  thing." 

"  What  for,  pray  ?  "  asked  Percy,  settling  his 
beloved  eyeglasses  for  a  better  view  of  her. 


136 


OF    MANY    THINGS. 


"Why,  you'll  be  with  Joel  and  Davie,"  said 
Polly.     "  Oh,  you  don't  know  how  I  miss  those 


"OH,  YOU  DON'T  KNOW  HOW  i  MISS  THOSK  BOYS  !" 

boys ! "     She  rested  both  hands  on  the  trunk 
edge  as  she  knelt  before  it. 

"  I  wish  you'd  been  our  sister,"  said  Van  en- 
viously, "then  we'd  have  had  good  times 
always." 


OF    MANY    THINGS.  137 

"  Oh,  I  don't  see  much  of  Joel,"  said  Percy. 
"  Dave  once  in  a  while  I  run  across,  but  Joel 
—  dear  me ! " 

"  You  don't  see  much  of  Joel,"  repeated 
Polly,  her  hands  dropping  suddenly  in  astonish- 
ment. "  Why,  Percy  Whitney,  why  not,  pray 
tell  ?  " 

"  Why,  Joel's  awful  good  —  got  a  streak  of 
going  into  the  prayer-meetings  and  that  sort  of 
thing,"  explained  Percy,  "  and  we  call  him 
Deacon  Pepper  in  the  class." 

"  He  goes  to  prayer-meetings,  and  you  call 
him  Deacon  Pepper,"  repeated  Polly  in  amaze- 
ment, while  Van  burst  out  into  a  fit  of 
amusement. 

"  Yes,"  said  Percy,  "  and  he  has  a  lot  of  old 
fogies  always  turning  up  that  want  help,  and 
all  such  stuff,  and  I  expect  that  he  is  going  to 
be  a  minister. " 

He  brought  this  out  as  something  too  dread- 
ful to  be  spoken,  and  then  fell  back  to  see  the 
effect  of  his  words. 

"  Can  you  suppose  it  ? "  cried  Polly  under 
her  breath,  still  kneeling  on  the  floor,  "oh, 
boys,  can  you  ?  "  looking  from  one  to  the  other. 


138  OF    MANY    THINGS. 

"Yes;  I'm  afraid  it's  true,"  said  Percy,  feel- 
ing that  he  ought  to  be  thrashed  for  having 
told  her,  while  Van  laughed  again. 

"  Oh  —  oh !  it's  too  lovely.  Dear,  beautiful, 
old  Joel ! "  cried  Polly,  springing  suddenly  to 
her  feet ;  "  just  think  how  good  he  is,  boys ! 
Oh,  it's  too  lovely  to  be  true ! " 

Percy  retreated  a  few  steps  hastily. 

"  And  oh,  how  much  better  we  ought  to  be," 
cried  Polly  in  a  rush  of  feeling.     "  Just  think, 
with  Joel  doing  such  beautiful  things,  oh,  how 
glad  Mamsie  will  be  !     And  he  never  told  — 
Joel  never  told." 

l-  And  he'll  just  about  kill  me  if  you  tell  him 
I've  let  it  out,"  said  Percy  abruptly.  "  Oh, 
dear  me,  how  he'll  pitch  into  me  !  "  exclaimed 
Percy  in  alarm. 

"  I  never  shall  speak  of  it,"  declared  Polly  in 
a  rapture,  "  because  Joel  always  hated  to  be 
praised  for  being  good.  But  oh,  how  lovely 
it  is!" 

And  then  Grandpapa  called,  and  she  ran  off 
on  happy  feet. 

"Whew!"  exclaimed  Percy,  with  a  look 
over  at  Van. 


OP    MANY    THINGS.  139 

"  I  tell  you  what,  if  you  want  to  get  into 
Polly's  good  graces,  you've  just  got  to  brush 
up  on  your  catechism,  and"  such  things,"  re- 
marked Van  ;  "  eyeglasses  don't  count." 

Percy  turned  off  uneasily. 

"  Nor  suppers,  and  a  bit  of  card-playing,  eh, 
Percy?" 

"Hold  your  tongue,  will  you?"  cried  his 
brother  irritably. 

"Nor  swell  clothes  and  a  touch-me-if-you- 
dare  manner,"  said  Van  mockingly,  sticking  his 
fingers  in  his  vest  pockets. 

Percy  made  a  lunge  at  him,  then  thought 
better  of  it. 

"  Leave  me  alone,  can't  you  ?  "  he  said  crossly. 

Van  opened  his  mouth  to  toss  back  a  teasing 
reply,  when  Percy  opened  up  on  him.  "I'd  as 
soon  take  my  chances  with  her,  on  the  suppers 
and  other  things,  as  to  have  yours.  What 
would  Polly  say  to  see  you  going  for  me  like 
this,  I'd  like  to  know?" 

It  was  now  Van's  turn  to  look  uncomfortable, 
and  he  cast  a  glance  at  the  door. 

"  Oh,  she  may  come  in,"  said  Percy,  bursting 
into  a  laugh,  "  then  you'd  be  in  a  fine  fix ;  and 


140  OF   MANY    THINGS. 

I  wouldn't  give  a  rush  for  the  good  opinion 
she'd  have  of  you." 

Van  hung  his  head,  took  two  or  three  steps 
to  the  door,  then  came  back  hurriedly. 

"  I  cry  '  Quits,'  Percy,"  he  said,  and  held  out 
his  hand. 

"  All  right,"  said  Percy,  smoothing  down  his 
ruffled  feelings,  and  putting  out  his  hand  too. 

Van  seized  it,  wrung  it  in  good  brotherly 
fashion,  then  raced  over  the  stairs  at  a  break- 
neck pace. 

"Polly,"  he  said,  meeting  her  in  the  hall 
where  she  had  just  come  from  Mr.  King's  room, 
"  I've  been  blackguarding  Percy,  and  you  ought 
to  know  it." 

"  Oh,  Van  ! "  cried  Polly,  stopping  short  in  a 
sorry  little  way ;  "  why,  you've  been  so  good 
ever  since  you  both  promised  years  ago  that 
you  wouldn't  say  bad  things  to  each  other." 

"  Oh,  that  was  different,"  said  Van  recklessly ; 
"  but  since  he  went  to  college,  Percy  has  been 
a  perfect  snob  Polly." 

Polly  said  nothing,  only  looked  at  him  in  a 
way  that  cut  him  to  the  heart,  as  she  moved  off 
slowly. 


OF    MANY    THINGS.  141 

"  Aren't  you  going  to  say  anything  ?  "  asked 
Van  at  last. 

"  I've  nothing  to  say,"  replied  Polly,  and  she 
disappeared  into  Mrs.  Whitney's  room  and 
closed  the  door. 

That  evening  Jasper  and  Percy,  who  went 
together  for  a  good  part  of  the  way,  had  just 
driven  to  the  station,  when  the  bell  rang  and  a 
housemaid  presently  laid  before  Polly  a  card, 
at  sight  of  which  all  the  color  deserted  her 
cheek.  "  Oh,  I  can't  see  him,"  she  declared 
involuntarily. 

"  Who  is  it  ?  "  asked  old  Mr.  King,  laying 
down  the  evening  paper. 

"  O,  Grandpapa !  "  cried  Polly,  all  in  a  tremor 
at  the  thought  of  his  disp^asure,  "  it  does  not 
matter.  I  can  send  word  that  I  do  not  see  any 
one  now  that  Aunty  is  ill,  and  " 

"  Polly,  child,"  said  the  old  gentleman,  seri- 
ously displeased,  "  come  and  tell  me  at  once 
who  has  called  upon  you." 

So  Polly,  hardly  knowing  how,  got  out  of 
her  chair  and  silently  laid  the  unwelcome  card 
in  his  hand. 

"  Mr.  Livingston  Bayley,"  read  the  old  gen- 


14'2  OP    MANY    THINGS. 

tleman.  "  Humph !  well,  upon  my  word,  this 
speaks  well  for  the  young  man's  perseverance. 
I'm  vei-y  tired,  but  I  see  nothing  for  it  hut  that 
I  must  respond  to  this ; "  and  he  threw  aside 
the  paper  and  got  up  to  his  feet. 

"  Grandpapa,"  begged  Polly  tremblingly  at  his 
elbow,  "  please  don't  let  him  feel  badly. 

"  It  isn't  possible,  Polly,"  cried  Mr.  King, 
looking  down  at  her,  "  that  you  like  this  fellow 
—  enough,  I  mean,  to  marry  him  ?  " 

"  O,  Grandpapa !  "  exclaimed  Polly  in  a  tone 
of  horror. 

"  Well,  then,  child,  you  must  leave  me  to 
settle  with  him,"  said  the  old  gentleman  with 
dignity.  "  Don't  worry ;  I  sha'n't  forget  myself, 
nor  what  is  due  to^a  Bayley,"  with  a  short 
laugh.  And  then  she  heard  him  go  into  the 
drawing-room  and  close  the  door. 

When  he  came  back,  which  he  did  in  the 
space  of  half  an  hour,  his  face  was  wreathed  in 
smiles,  and  he  chuckled  now  and  then,  as  he 
sat  down  in  his  big  chair  and  drew  out  his  eye- 
glasses. 

«  Well,  Polly,  child,  I  don't  believe  he  will 
trouble  you  in  this  way  again,  my  dear,"  he 


OP   MANY    THINGS.  143 

said  in  a  satisfied  way,  looking  at  her  over  the 
table.  "  He  wanted  to  leave  the  question  open  ; 
thought  it  impossible  that  you  could  refuse  him 
utterly,  and  was  willing  to  wait;  and  asked 
permission  to  send  flowers,  and  all  that  sort  of 
thing.  But  I  made  the  young  man  see  exactly 
how  the  matter  stood,  and  that's  all  that  need 
be  said  about  it.  It's  done  with  now  and  for- 
ever." And  then  he  took  up  his  paper  and 
began  to  read. 

"  Mamsie,"  said  Phronsie,  that  very  evening 
as  she  was  getting  ready  for  bed,  and  pausing 
in  the  doorway  of  her  little  room  that  led  out 
of  Mother  Fisher's,  "  do  you  suppose  we  can 
bear  it  another  day  without  Polly  ?  " 

"  Why,  yes,  Phronsie,"  said  Mother  Fisher, 
giving  another  gentle  rock  to  Baby's  cradle, 
"  of  course  we  can,  because  we  must.  That 
isn't  like  you,  dear,  to  want  Polly  back  till 
Aunty  has  got  through  needing  her." 

Phronsie  gave  a  sigh  and  thoughtfully  drew 
her  slippered  foot  over  the  pattern  of  the  carpet. 
"  It  would  be  so  very  nice,"  she  said,  "  if  Aunty 
didn't  need  her." 


144  OF    MANY    THINGS. 

"  So  it  would,"  said  her  mother,  "  but  it 
won't  make  Polly  come  any  quicker  to  spend 
the  time  wishing  for  her.  There,  run  to  bed, 
child  ;  you  are  half  an  hour  late  to-night." 

Phronsie  turned  obediently  into  her  own 
little  room,  then  came  back  softly.  "I  want 
to  give  Baby,  Polly's  good-night  kiss,"  she  said. 

"  Very  well,  you  may,  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Fisher. 
So  Phronsie  bent  over  and  set  on  Baby's  dear 
little  cheek,  the  kiss  that  could  not  go  to  Polly. 

"  If  dear  Grandpapa  would  only  come  home," 
and  she  sighed  again. 

"But  just  think  how  beautiful  it  is  that 
Aunty  was  not  hurt  so  much  as  the  doctors 
feared,"  said  her  mother.  "Oh,  Phronsie, 
we  can't  ever  be  thankful  enough  for  that." 

"And  now  maybe  God  will  let  Grandpapa 
and  Polly  come  back  pretty  soon,"  said  Phronsie 
slowly,  going  off  toward  her  own  little  room. 
And  presently  Mrs.  Fisher  heard  her  say, 
"  Good-night,  Mamsie  dear,  I'm  in  bed." 

A  rap  at  the  door,  and  Jane  put  in  her  head, 
in  response  to  Mrs.  Fisher's  "What  is  it?" 

"  Oh,  is  Dr.  Fisher  here  ? "  asked  Jane  in  a 
frightened  way. 


OF    MANY    THINGS.  147 

"No;  he  is  downstairs  in  the  library,"  said 
Mother  Fisher.  "What  is  the  matter,  Jane? 
Who  wants  him?" 

"  Oh,  something  dreadful  is  the  matter  with 
Helen  Fargo,  I'm  afraid,  ma'am,"  said  Jane. 
"  Griggs  has  just  run  over  to  say  that  the  doc- 
tor must  come  quick." 

"  Hush ! "  said  Mrs.  Fisher,  pointing  to 
Phronsie's  wide-open  door ;  but  she  was  stand- 
ing beside  them  in  her  little  nightdress,  and 
heard  the  next  words  plainly  enough. 

"  Run  down  stairs,  Jane,"  commanded  Mother 
Fisher,  "  and  tell  the  doctor  what  Griggs  said ; 
just  as  fast  as  you  can,  Jane." 

And  in  another  minute  in  rushed  the  little 
doctor,  seized  his  medicine  case,  saying  as  he  did 
so,  "  I  sha'n't  come  back  here,  wife,  if  it  is  diph- 
theria, but  go  to  my  office  and  change  my 
clothes.  There's  considerable  of  the  disease 
around.  Good-night,  child."  He  stopped  to 
kiss  Phronsie,  who  lifted  a  pale,  troubled  face 
to  his.  "  Don't  worry ;  I  guess  Helen  will  be 
all  right,"  and  he  dashed  off  again. 

"Now,  Phronsie,  child,"  said  Mrs.  Fisher, 
«  come  to  mother  and  let  us  talk  it  over  a  bit." 


148  OF    MANY    THINGS. 

So  Phronsie  cuddled  up  in  Mamsie's  lap,  and 
laid  her  sad  little  cheek  where  she  had  been  so 
often  comforted. 

"Mamsie,"  she  said  at  last,  lifting  her  head, 
"  I  don't  believe  God  will  let  Helen  die,  because 
you  see  she's  the  only  child  that  Mrs.  Fargo 
has.  He  couldn't,  Mamsie." 

"Phronsie,  darling,  God  knows  best,"  said 
Mrs.  Fisher,  holding  her  close. 

"•But  He  wouldn't  ever  do  it,  I  know,"  said 
Phronsie  confidently;  "I'm  going  to  ask  Him 
not  to,  and  tell  Him  over  again  about  Helen's 
being  the  very  only  one  that  Mrs.  Fargo  has  in  all 
the  world."  So  she  slipped  to  the  floor,  and  went 
into  her  own  room  again  and  closed  the  door. 
"  Dear  Jesus,"  she  said,  kneeling  by  her  little 
white  bed,  "  please  don't  take  Helen  away,  be- 
cause her  mother  has  only  just  Helen.  And 
please  make  dear  papa  give  her  the  right  things, 
so  that  she  will  live  at  home,  and  not  go  to 
Heaven  yet.  Amen." 

Then  she  clambered  into  bed,  and  lay  looking 
out  across  the  moonlight,  where  the  light  from 
Helen  Fargo's  room  twinkled  through  the  fir- 
trees  on  the  lawn. 


CHAPTER  VII. 


PHRONSIE. 

U  T  CAN'T  tell  her,"  groaned  Mrs.  Pepper, 
J_    the  next  morning,  at  sight  of  Phronsie's 
peaceful    little   face.     "  I    never   can    say   the 
word  '  diphtheria '  in  all  this  world." 

Phronsie  laughed  and  played  with  Baby 
quite  merrily,  all  such  time  as  Miss  Carruth, 
the  governess,  allowed  her  from  the  school- 

O  * 

room  that  morning. 

"Everything  is  beautiful,  King  dear,"  she 
would  say  on  such  little  flying  visits  to  the 
nursery.  "Grandpapa  and  Polly,  I  do  think, 
will  be  home  pretty  soon  ;  and  Helen  is  going 
to  get  well,  because  you  know  I  asked  God  to 
let  her,  and  he  wouldn't  ever,  in  all  this  world, 
take  her  away  from  her  mother.  He  wouldn't, 
King,"  she  added  confidentially  in  Baby's 
small  ear. 

149 


150  PHKONSIE. 

All  day  long  the  turreted  Fargo  mansion 
gleamed  brightly  in  the  glancing  sunlight,  giv- 
ing no  hint  of  the  battle  for  a  life  going  on 
within.  Mrs.  Fisher  knew  when  her  husband 
sent  for  the  most  celebrated  doctor  for  throat 
diseases;  knew  when  he  came;  and  knew  also 
when  each  hour  those  who  were  fighting  the 
foe,  were  driven  back  baffled.  And  several 
times  she  attempted  to  tell  Phronsie  something 
of  the  shadow  hanging  over  the  little  playmate's 
home.  But  Phronsie  invariably  put  aside  all 
her  attempts  with  a  gentle  persistence,  always 
saying,  "  He  wouldn't,  you  know,  Mamsie." 

And  at  nightfall  Helen  had  gone  ;  and  two 
white  little  hands  were  folded  quietly  across  a 
young  girl's  breast. 

No  one  told  Phronsie  that  night ;  no  one 
could.  And  she  clambered  into  her  little  white 

» 

bed,  after  saying  her  old  prayer ;  then  she 
lay  in  the  moonlight  again,  watching  Helen's 
house. 

"  The  light  is  out,  Mamsie,"  she  called,  "  in 
Helen's  room.  But  I  suppose  she  is  asleep." 
And  presently  Mrs.  Fisher,  stealing  in,  with 
unshed  tears  in  her  eyes,  found  her  own  child 


PHRONSIE.  151 

safe  — folded  in  restful  slumber,  her  hand  tucked 
under  her  cheek. 

But  the  next  morning,  when  she  must  hear  it ! 

"  Phronsie,"  said  Mrs.  Fisher,  "  come  here, 
dear."  It  was  after  breakfast,  and  Phronsie 
was  running  up  into  the  school-room. 

"  Do  you  mean  I  am  not  to  go  to  Miss 
Carruth  ? "  asked  Phronsie  wonderingly,  and 
fingering  her  books. 

"Yes,  dear.  Oh,  Phronsie"  —  Mrs.  Fisher 
abruptly  dropped  her  customary  self-control, 
and  held  out  her  arms.  "  Come  here,  mother's 
baby ;  Pve  something  bad  to  tell  you,  and  you 
must  help  me,  dear." 

Phronsie  came  at  once,  with  wide-open, 
astonished  brown  eyes,  and  climbed  up  into 
the  good  lap  obediently. 

"  Phronsie,"  said  Mrs.  Fisher,  swallowing 
the  lump  in  her  throat,  and  looking  at  the 
child  fixedly,  "  you  know  Helen  has  been  very 
sick." 

"Yes,  mamma,"  said  Phronsie,  still  in  a 
wonder. 

"  Well  —  and  she  suffered,  -  dear,  oh,  so 
much !  " 


152  PHRONSIE.  ' 

A  look  of  pain  stole  over  Phronsie's  face, 
and  Mrs.  Fisher  hastened  to  say,  "  But  oh, 
Phronsie,  she  can't  ever  suffer  any  more,  for  — 
for  —  God  has  taken  her  home,  Phronsie." 

"Has  Helen  died?"  asked  Phronsie,  in  a 
sharp  little  voice,  so  unlike  her  own  that  Mrs. 
Pepper  shivered  and  held  her  close. 

"  Oh,  darling  —  how  can  I  tell  you  ?  Yes, 
dear,  God  has  taken  her  home  to  Heaven." 

"  And  left  Mrs.  Fargo  without  any  little 
girl?"  asked  Phronsie,  in  the  same  tone. 

"  My  dear  —  yes  —  He  knows  what  is  best," 
said  poor  Mrs.  Fisher. 

The  startled  look  on  Phronsie's  little  face 
gave  way  to  a  grieved  expression,  that  slowly 
settled  on  each  feature. 

"  Let  me  get  down,  Mamsie,"  she  said,  quietly, 
and  gently  struggling  to  free  herself. 

"Oh,  Phronsie,  what  are  you  going  to  do?" 
cried  Mrs.  Fisher.  »  Do  sit  with  mother." 

"  I  must  think  it  out,  Mamsie,"  said  Phronsie, 
with  grave  decision,  getting  on  her  feet,  and 
she  went  slowly  up  the  stairs,  and  into  her  own 
room  ;  then  closed  the  door. 

And    all  that   day  she  said   nothing;    even 


PHRONSIE.  153 

when  Mother  Fisher  begged  her  to  come  and 
talk  it  over  with  her,  Phronsie  would  say,  "  I 
can't,  Mamsie  dear,  it  won't  talk  itself."  But 
she  was  gentle  and  sweet  with  Baby,  and  never 
relaxed  any  effort  for  his  amusement.  And  at 
last,  when  they  were  folding  Helen  away  lov- 
ingly In  flowers,  from  all  who  had  loved  her, 
Mrs.  Fisher  wrote  in  despair  to  Polly,  telling 
her  all  about  it,  and  adding,  "  You  must  come 
home,  if  only  for  a  few  days,  or  Phronsie  will 
be  sick." 

"  I  shall  go,  too,"  declared  old  Mr.  King, 
"  for  Marian  can  spare  me  now.  Oh,  that 
blessed  child !  And  I  can  come  back  here 
with  you,  Polly,  if  necessary." 

And  Polly  had  nothing  for  it  but  to  help 
him  off,  and  Charlotte's  father  being  ever  so 
much  better,  she  joined  them ;  and  as  soon  as 
it  was  a  possible  thing,  there  they  were  at 
home,  and  Thomas  was  driving  them  up  at  his 
best  speed,  to  the  carriage  porch. 

"  Polly !  "  Phronsie  gasped  the  word,  and 
threw  hungry  little  arms  around  Polly's  neck. 

"  There,  there,  Pet,"  cried  Polly  cheerily, 
"  you  see  we're  all  home.  Here's  Grandpapa !  " 


154  PHROXSIE. 

"Where's  my  girl?"  cried  old  Mr.  King 
hastily.  "  Here,  Phronsie,"  and  she  was  in  his 
arms,  while  the  tears  rained  down  her  cheeks. 

"  Bless  me ! "  exclaimed  the  old  gentleman, 
putting  up  his  hand  at  the  shower.  "Well, 
that  is  a  welcome  home,  Phronsie." 

"  Oh,  Grandpapa,  I  didn't  mean  to ! "  said 
Phronsie,  drawing  back  in  dismay.  "  I  do 
hope  it  hasn't  hurt  your  coat." 

"  Never  mind  the  coat,  Phronsie,"  said  Mr. 
King.  "  So  you  are  glad  to  get  us  home,  eh  ?  " 

Phronsie  snuggled  close  to  his  side,  while 
she  clung  to  his  hand  without  a  word. 

"  Well,  we  mustn't  forget  Charlotte,"  cried 
Polly,  darting  back  to  a  tall  girl  with  light  hair 
and  very  pale  blue  eyes,  standing  composedly 
in  one  corner  of  the  hall,  and  watching  the  whole 
thing  closely.  "Mamsie,  dear,  here  she  isj" 
taking  her  hand  to  draw  her  to  Mrs.  Fisher. 

«  Don't  mind  me,"  said  Charlotte,  perfectly 
at  her  ease.  "  You  take  care  of  the  little  girl," 
as  Polly  dragged  her  on. 

Mrs.  Fisher  took  a  good  long  look  at  Char- 
lotte Chatterton.  Then  she  smiled,  "I  am 
glad  to  see  you,  Charlotte." 


CHARLOTTE,    STANDING    COMPOSEDLY   IN   ONE    CORNER  OF 
THE   HALL,. 


PHRONSIE.  157 

Charlotte  took  the  firm  fingers  extended  to 
her,  and  said,  "  Thank  you,"  then  turned  off  to 
look  at  Phronsie  again. 

And  it  wasn't  till  after  dinner  that  Phronsie's 
trouble  was  touched  upon.  Then  Polly  drew 
her  off  to  a  quiet  corner. 

"  Now,  then,  Phronsie,"  she  said,  gathering 
her  up  close  in  her  arms,  "  tell  me  all  about  it, 
Pet.  Just  think,"  and  Polly  set  warm  kisses 
on  the  pale  little  cheek, "  how  long  it  is  since 
you  and  I  have  had  a  good  talk." 

"  I  know  it,"  said  Phronsie  wearily,  and  she 
drew  a  long  sigh. 

"  Isn't  it  good  that  dear  Aunty  is  so  much 
better?"  cried  Polly  cheerily,  quite  at  a  loss 
how  to  begin. 

"  Yes,  Polly,"  said  Phronsie,  but  she  sighed 
again,  and  did  not  lift  her  eyes  to  Polly's  face. 

"  If  anything  troubles  you,"  at  last  broke  out 
Polly  desperately,  "  you'd  feel  better,  Phronsie, 
to  tell  sister  about  it.  I  may  not  know  how  to 
say  the  right  things,  but  I  can  maybe  help  a 
little." 

Phronsie  sat  quite  still,  and  folded  and  un- 
folded her  hands  in  her  lap.  "  Why  did  God 


158 


I'HKONSIE. 


take  away  Helen  ? "  she  asked  suddenly,  lifting 
her  head.     "  Oh,  Polly,  it  wasn't  nice  of  him," 


PHRONSIK    WENT   OVEK  TO   THK    WINDOW. 

she   added,  a   strange   look   coming   into   her 
brown  eyes. 


PHRONSIE.  159 

"  Oh,  Phronsie  !  "  exclaimed  Polly,  quite 
shocked,  "  don't,  dear ;  that  isn't  like  you,  Pet. 
Why,  God  made  us  all,  and  he  can  do  just  as 
he  likes,  darling." 

"  But  it  isn't  nice,"  repeated  Phronsie  delib- 
erately, and  quite  firmly,  "  to  take  Helen  now. 
Why  doesn't  He  make  another  little  girl  then 
for  Mrs.  Fargo  ?  "  and  she  held  Polly  with  her 
troubled  eyes. 

"  Phronsie  "  —  cried  Polly ;  then  she  stopped 
abruptly.  "  Oh,  what  can  I  say  ?  I  don't 
know,  dearie ;  it's  just  this  way ;  we  don't 
know  why  God  does  things.  But  we  love 
him,  and  we  feel  it's  right.  Oh,  Phronsie,  don't 
look  so.  There,  there,"  and  she  drew  her  close 
to  her,  in  a  loving,  hungry  clasp.  "  I  told  you 
I  didn't  think  I  could  say  the  right  things  to 
you,"  she  went  on  hurriedly,  "  but,  Phronsie,  I 
know  God  did  just  right  in  taking  Helen  to 
heaven.  Just  think  how  beautiful  it  must  be 
there,  and  so  many  little  children  are  there. 
And  Helen  is  so  happy.  Oh,  Phronsie,  when 
I  think  of  that,  I  am  glad  she  is  gone." 

"  Helen  was  happy  here,"  said  Phronsie 
decidedly.  "  And  she  never  —  never  would 


160  PHRONSIE. 

want  to  leave  her  mother  alone,  to  go  off  to  a 
nicer  place.  Never,  Polly." 

Polly  drew  a  long  breath,  arid  shut  her  lips. 
"  But,  Phronsie,  don't  you  see,"  she  cried  pres- 
ently, "  it  may  be  that  Mrs.  Fargo  wouldn't 
ever  want  to  go  to  Heaven  unless  Helen  was 
there  to  meet  her?  It  may  be,  Phronsie ;  and 
that  would  be  very  dreadful,  you  know.  And 
God  loved  Mrs.  Fargo  so  that  he  took  Helen, 
and  he  is  going  to  keep  her  happy  every  single 
minute  while  she  is  waiting  and  getting  ready 
for  her  mother." 

Phronsie  suddenly  slipped  down  from  Polly's 
lap.  "  Is  that  true  ?  "  she  demanded. 

"  Yes,  dear,"  said  Polly,  "  I  think  it  is,  Phron- 
sie," and  her  cheeks  glowed.  "  Oh,  can't  you 
see  how  much  nicer  it  is  in  God  to  make  Mrs. 
Fargo  happy  for  always  with  Helen,  instead  of 
just  a  little  bit  of  a  while  down  here  ?  " 

Phronsie  went  over  to  the  window  and 
looked  up  at  the  winter  sky.  "It  is  a  long 
way  off,"  she  said,  but  the  bitter  tone  had  gone, 
and  it  was  a  grieved  little  voice  that  added, 
"  and  Mrs.  Fargo  can't  see  Helen." 

"Phronsie,"    said   Polly,    hurrying   over   to 


PHRONSIE.  161 

her  side,  "  perhaps  God  wants  you  to  do  some 
things  for  Mrs.  Fargo  —  things,  I  mean,  that 
Helen  would  have  done." 

"  Why,  I  can't  go  over  there,"  said  Phronsie 
wonderingly.  "  Papa  Fisher  says  I  am  not  to 
go  over  there  for  ever  and  ever  so  long,  Polly." 

"  Well,  you  can  write  her  little  notes  and 
you  can  help  her  to  see  that  God  did  just 
right  in  taking  Helen  away,"  said  Polly  ;  "  and 
that  would  be  the  very  best  thing  you  could 
do,  Phronsie,  for  Mrs.  Fargo ;  the  very  loveliest 
thing  in  all  this  world." 

"  Would  it?"  asked  Phronsie. 

"  Yes,  dear." 

"  Then  I'll  do  it ;  and  perhaps  God  wants  me 
to  like  Heaven  better ;  does  he,  Polly,  do  you 
think?" 

"  I  really  and  truly  do,  Phronsie,"  said  Polly 
softly.  Then  she  leaned  over  and  threw  both 
arms  around  Phronsie's  neck.  "  Oh,  Phronsie, 
can't  you  see  —  I  never  thought  of  it  till  now  — 
but  He  has  given  you  somebody  else  instead  of 
Helen,  to  love  and  to  do  things  for  ?  " 

Phronsie  looked  up  wonderingly.  "  I  don't 
know  what  you  mean,  Polly,"  she  said. 


162  PHRONSIE. 

"There's  Charlotte,"  cried  Polly,  going  on 
rapidly  as  she  released  Phronsie.  "  Oh,  Phron- 
sie,  you  can't  think ;  it's  been  dreadfully  hard 
and  dull  always  for  her  at  home,  with  those 
two  stiff  great-aunts  pecking  at  her." 

"  Tell  me  about  it,"  begged  Phronsie,  turning 
away  from  the  window,  and  putting  her  hand 
in  Polly's. 

"  Well,  come  over  to  our  corner  then."  So 
the  two  ran  back,  Phronsie  climbing  into  Polly's 
lap,  while  a  look  of  contentment  began  to  spread 
over  her  face. 

"  You  see,"  began  Polly, "  Charlotte's  mother 
has  always  been  too  ill  to  have  nice  times  ; 
she  couldn't  go  out,  you  know,  very  much,  nor 
keep  the  house,  and  so  the  two  great-aunts 
came  to  live  with  them.  Well,  pretty  soon 
they  began  to  feel  as  if  they  owned  the  house, 
and  Charlotte,  and  everybody  in  it." 

"  Oh  dear  ! "  exclaimed  Phronsie,  in  distress. 

"And  Charlotte's  father,  Mr.  Alexander 
Chatterton,  couldn't  stop  it ;  and  beside,  he 
was  away  on  business  most  of  the  time,  and 
Charlotte  didn't  complain  —  oh,  she  behaved 
very  nice  about  it ;  Phronsie,  her  father  told 


PHRONSIE.  163 

Grandpapa  all  about  it;  and  by  and  by  her 
mother  died,  and  then  things  got  worse  and 
worse  ;  but  Mr.  Chatterton  never  knew  half 
how  bad  it  was.  But  when  he  was  sick  it  all 
came  out,  and  it  worried  him  so  that  he  got 
very  bad  indeed,  and  then  he  sent  for  Grand- 
papa —  Charlotte  couldn't  stop  him ;  he  made 
her  go.  You  see  he  was  afraid  he  was  going 
to  die,  and  he  couldn't  bear  to  have  things  so 
very  dreadful  for  Charlotte." 

"  And  is  he  going  to  die  ?  "  broke  in  Phron- 
sie  excitedly. 

"  Oh  no,  indeed  !  he  was  almost  well  when 
we  came  away ;  it  was  only  his  worrying  over 
Charlotte  that  made  him  so  bad.  Oh,  you  ought 
to  have  seen  him,  Phronsie,  when  Grandpapa 
offered  to  take  Charlotte  home  with  us  for  the 
winter.  He  was  so  happy  he  almost  cried." 

"  I  am  so  glad  he  was  happy,"  cried  Phron- 
sie in  great  satisfaction,  her  cheeks  flushing. 

"And  so  now  I  think  God  gave  Charlotte 
to  you  for  a  little  while  because  you  haven't 
Helen.  I  do,  Phronsie,  and  you  can  make 
Charlotte  glad  while  she  is  here,  and  help  her 
to  have  a  good  time." 


164  PHRONSIE. 

"  Can  I  ?  "  cried  Phronsie,  her  cheeks  grow- 
ing a  deep  pink.  "  Oh,  Polly,  how  ?  Char- 
lotte is  a  big  girl ;  how  can  I  help  her  ?  " 

"  That's  your  secret  to  find  out,"  said  Polly 
merrily.  "  Well,  come  now,"  kissing  her,  "  we 
must  hurry  back  to  Grandpapa,  or  he'll  feel 
badly  to  have  you  gone  so  long." 

"  Polly,"  cried  Phronsie,  as  they  hurried  over 
the  stairs,  "  put  your  ear  down,  do." 

"  I  can't  till  we  get  downstairs,"  laughed 
Polly,  "  or  I'll  tumble  on  my  nose,  I'm  afraid. 
Well,  here  we  are.  Now  then,  what  is  it?" 
and  she  bent  over  to  catch  the  soft  words. 

"  I'm  sorry,"  said  Phronsie,  her  lips  quite  close 
to  Polly's  rosy  cheek,  "  that  I  said  God  wasn't 
nice  to  take  Helen  away.  Oh,  I  love  him, 
Polly,  I  truly  do." 

"  So  you  do,"  said  Polly,  with  a  warm  clasp. 
'-  Well,  here's  Grandpapa,"  as  the  library  door 
opened,  and  Mr.  King  came  out  to  meet  them. 

Polly,  running  over  the  stairs  the  next  day 
to  greet  Alexia  and  some  of  the  girls  who  were 
determined  to  make  the  most  of  her  little  visit 
at  home,  was  met  first  by  one  of  the  maids 
with  a  letter. 


ALEX1A    COOLLY    READ  ON,    ONE   AKM   AHOUND   POLLY. 


PHRONSIE.  167 

"  Oh,  now,"  cried  Alexia,  catching  sight  of  it, 
"  I  almost  know  that's  to  hurry  you  back,  Polly. 
She  sha'n't  read  it,  girls."  With  that  she  made 
a  feint  of  seizing  the  large  white  envelope. 

"  Hands  off  from  my  property,"  cried  Polly 
merrily,  waving  her  off,  and  sitting  down  on 
the  stair  she  tore  the  letter  open. 

Alexia  worked  her  way  along  till  she  was 
able  to  sit  down  beside  her,  when  she  was 
guilty  of  looking  over  her  shoulder. 

"  Oh,  Alexia  Rhys,  how  perfectly,  dreadfully 
mean  ! "  cried  one  of  the  other  girls,  wishing 
she  could  be  in  the  same  place. 

Alexia  turned  a  deaf  ear,  and  coolly  read  on, 
one  arm  around  Polly. 

"  Oh,  girls  —  girls !  "  she  suddenly  screamed, 
and  jumping  up,  nearly  oversetting  Polly,  she 
raced  over  the  remaining  stairs  to  the  bottom, 
where  she  danced  up  and  down  the  wide  hall, 
"  Polly  isn't  going  back  —  she  isn't  —  she 
isn't,"  she  kept  declaring. 

"  What !  "  cried  all  the  girls.  "  Oh,  do  stop, 
Alexia.  What  is  it  ?  " 

Meantime  Cathie  Harrison  ran  up  and  quickly 
possessed  herself  of  the  vacated  seat. 


168  PHRONSIE. 

"  Why,  Mr.  Whitney  writes  to  say  that  Polly 
needn't  go  back  —  oh,  how  perfectly  lovely  in 
him !  "  cried  Alexia,  bringing  up  flushed  and 
panting.  "  Oh,  dear  me,  I  can't  breathe  !  " 

"  Oh  !  oh  ! "  cried  all  the  girls,  clapping  their 
hands. 

"  But  that  doesn't  mean  that  I  shall  not  go 
back,"  said  Polly,  looking  up  from  her  letter  to 
peer  through  the  stair-railing  at  them.  "  I 
think  —  yes,  I  really  do  think  that  I  ought  to 
go  back." 

"  How  nonsensical ! "  exclaimed  Alexia  im- 
patiently. "  If  Mr.  Whitney  says  you  are  not 
needed,  isn't  that  enough  ?  Beside  he  wrote  it 
for  Mrs.  Whitney  ;  I  read  it  all." 

"  No,  I  don't  think  it  is  enough,"  answered 
Polly  slowly,  and  turning  the  letter  with  per- 
plexed fingers,  "  for  I  know  dear  Aunty  only 
told  him  to  write  because  she  thought  I  ought 
to  be  at  home." 

"  And  so  you  ought,"  declared  Alexia,  very 
decidedly.  "  She's  quite  right  about  it,  and 
now  you're  here,  why,  you've  just  got  to  stay. 
So  there,  Polly  Pepper.  Hasn't  she,  girls  ?  " 

"  Yes,  indeed,"  cried  the  girls. 


PHRONSIE.  169 

Polly  shook  her  brown  head,  as  she  still  sat 
on  her  stair  busily  thinking. 

"  Here  comes  Mr.  King,"  cried  Cathie  Har- 
rison, suddenly  craning  her  neck  at  the  sound  of 
the  opening  of  a  door  above  them.  "  Now  I'm 
just  going  to  ask  him,"  and  she  sprang  to  her  feet. 

"  Cathie  —  Cathie,"  begged  Polly,  springing 
up  too. 

"  I  just  will,"  declared  Cathie,  obstinately 
scampering  up  over  the  stairs.  "  Oh,  Mr.  King, 
mayn't  Polly  stay  home  ?  Oh,  do  say  yes, 
please !  " 

"  Yes,  do  say  yes,  please,"  called  all  the  other 
girls  in  the  hall  below. 

"  Hoity-toity! "  exclaimed  the  old  gentleman, 
well  pleased  at  the  onslaught.  "Now  then, 
what's  the  matter,  pray  tell  ?  " 

"  I  just  won't  have  Cathie  Harrison  tell  him," 
said  Alexia,  trying  to  run  up  over  the  stairs. 
"  Let  me  by,  Polly,  do,"  she  begged. 

"  No,  indeed,"  cried  Polly,  spreading  her 
arms.  "  It's  bad  enough  to  have  one  of  you 
up  there  besieging  Grandpapa." 

"  Then  I'll  run  up  the  back  stairs,"  cried 
Alexia,  turning  in  a  flash. 


170  PHRONSIE. 

"  Oh,  yes,  the  back  stairs !  "  exclaimed  the 
other  girls,  following  her.  "  Oh,  do  hurry ! 
Polly's  coining  after  us." 

But  speed  as  she  might,  Polly  could  not 
overtake  the  bevy,  who,  laughing  and  pant- 
ing, stood  before  Mr.  King  a  second  ahead  of 
her. 

"  A  pretty  good  race,"  said  the  old  gentle- 
man, laughing  heartily,  "  but  against  you  from 
the  first,  Polly,  my  girl." 

"  Don't  listen  to  them,  Grandpapa  dear," 
panted  Polly. 

"  Mayn't  she  stay  at  home  —  mayn't  she  ?  " 

"  Hush,  girls,"  begged  Polly.  "  Oh,  Grand- 
papa dear,  don't  listen  to  them.  Aunty  told 
Uncle  Mason  to  write  the  letter,  and  you 
know  "- 

"  Well,  yes,  I  know  all  you  would  say,  Polly. 
But  I've  also  had  a  letter  from  Mason,  and  I 
was  just  going  to  show  it  to  you."  He  pulled 
out  of  his  vest  pocket  another  envelope  corre- 
sponding to  the  one  in  Polly's  hand,  which  he 
waved  at  her. 

"  Oh,  Grandpapa ! "  exclaimed  Polly,  quite 
aghast  at  his  so  easily  going  over  to  the  enemy. 


PHRONSIE.  171 

With  that,  all  the  girls  deserted  the  old  gentle- 
man, and  swarmed  around  Polly. 

"  See  here,  now,"  commanded  Mr.  King, 
"  every  single  one  of  you  young  things  come 
back  here  this  minute.  Goodness  me,  Polly,  I 
should  think  they'd  be  the  death  of  you." 

Polly  didn't  hear  a  word,  for  she  was  read- 
ing busily :  « Marian  says  '  don't  let  Polly 
come  back  on  any  account.  It  worries  me 
dreadfully  to  think  of  all  that  she  is  giving  up ; 
and  I  will  be  brave,  and  do  without  her.  She 
must  not  come  back.' " 

Polly  looked  up  to  meet  old  Mr.  King's 
eyes  fixed  keenly  upon  her. 

"  You  see,  Polly,"  he  began,  "  I  really  don't 
dare  after  that  to  let  you  go  back." 

"  Oh  —  oh  —  oh ! "  screamed  all  the  girls. 

«'  There,  I  told  you  so,"  exclaimed  Alexia. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

POLLY  LOOKS  OUT  FOR  CHARLOTTE. 

•  i  PJECOND  floor  — Room  No.  3,"  said  But- 
kj     tons,  then  stood  like  an  automaton  to 
•sratch  the  tall  young  man  scale  the  stair. 

"  He  did  -'em  beautifully,"  he  confided  after- 
ward to  another  bell-boy.  "  Mr.  King  himself 
can't  get  over  them  stairs  better. " 

'« Come  in !  "  cried  Jasper,  in  response  to  the 
rap. 

"•Halloo,  old  fellow!"  cried  Pickering  Dodge, 
rushing  in  tumultuously.  "  Well,  well,  so  this 
is  your  den,"  looking  around  the  small  room  in 
surprise. 

"  Yes.  Now  this  is  good  to  see  you !  "  ex- 
claimed Jasper,  joyfully  leaping  from  his  chair  to 
seize  Pickering's  hand.  "  Well,  what  brought 
you?  There's  nothing  wrong?"  he  asked, 
anxiously  scanning  Pickering's  face. 
172 


PQLLY    LOOKS    OUT    FOB    CHARLOTTE.        173 

"  No  —  that  is,  everything's  right ;  all  except 
Polly." 

"There  isn't  anything  the  matter  with 
Polly?"  Jasper  turned  quite  white,  scarcely 
speaking  the  words. 

"  No,  she's  all  right,  only "  —  Pickering 
turned  impatiently  off  from  the  chair  Jasper 
pulled  forward  with  a  hasty  hand,  and  stalked 
to  the  other  side  of  the  little  room.  "  She's  — 
she's  —  well,  she's  so  hard  to  come  at  nowa- 
days. Everybody  has  a  chance  for  a  word  with 
her  but  old  friends.  And  now  the  Recital  is 
in  full  blast." 

Jasper  drew  a  long  breath,  and  began  to  get 
his  color  again.  "  Oh,  yes  —  well,  it's  all  going 
on  well,  the  Recital,  I  mean,  isn't  it  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  believe  so,"  said  Pickering  in  a  gloomy 
way.  "  The  girls  are  wild  over  it ;  you  can't 
hear  anything  else  talked  about  at  home. 
But,"  he  broke  off  abruptly,  "  got  a  cigar,  Jas- 
per ?  "  and  he  began  to  hunt  the  mantel  among 
the  few  home-things  spread  around  to  enliven 
the  hotel  apartment. 

"  Haven't  such  an  article,"  said  Jasper. 

"  I  forgot  you  don't  smoke,"  said  Pickering 


174   POLLY  LOOKS  OUT  FOR  CHARLOTTE. 

with  a  sigh.  "  Dear  me !  how  will  you  bear 
trouble  when  it  comes,  old  chap  ?  "  He  came 
back  to  the  table,  and  thrust  his  hands  in  his 
pockets,  looking  dismally  at  Jasper. 

"  I'm  afraid  a  cigar  wouldn't  help  me  much," 
said  Jasper,  with  a  laugh ;  "  but  if  you  must 
have  one,  I  can  get  it,  eh  ?  " 

"Yes,  I  must,"  said  Pickering  in  despair, 
"  for  I've  something  on  my  mind.  Came  over 
on  purpose  to  get  your  help,  and  I  can't  do  it 
without  a  weed." 

"  Very  well,"  said  Jasper,  shoving  the  chair 
again  toward  Pickering.  "  Sit  down,  and  I'll 
have  one  sent  up,"  and  he  went  over  and 
touched  the  electric  button  on  the  wall. 

"Yes,  sir?"  Buttons  ran  his  head  in  the 
doorway,  and  stared  at  them  without  winking. 

"  A  cigar  for  this  gentleman,"  said  Jasper, 
filliping  a  coin  into  the  boy's  hand. 

"  Is  that  the  way  you  order  cigars  ? "  de- 
manded Pickering,  whirling  around  in  his  chair. 

"  Yes,  when  I  order  them  at  all,"  said  Jasper, 
laughing ;  "  a  weed  is  a  weed,  I  suppose." 

"  Indeed,  and  it  is  not,  then,"  retorted  Pick- 
ering. "  I'll  have  none  of  your  ordering.  You 


POLLY    LOOKS    OUT    FOR    CHARLOTTE.        175 

needn't  bring  it  up,  boy ;  I'll  go  down  to  the 
office  and  pick  some  out  for  myself." 

"  All  right,  sir,"  said  Buttons,  putting  down 
the  coin  on  the  table  with  a  lingering  finger. 

"  Keep  it,"  said  Jasper,  with  a  smile. 

"  He's  a  gentleman,"  observed  Buttons,  oh 
the  way  downstairs,  Pickering  treading  his 
heels.  "  He  ain't  like  the  rest  of  'em  that 
boards  here.  They  orders  me  around  with  a 
'  Here,  you  ! '  or  a  '  Hoi,  there,  boy  ! '  They're 
gents ;  he's  the  whole  word  —  a  first-class 
gentleman,  Mr.  King  is,"  he  repeated. 

"  Now,  then,  for  it,"  said  Jasper,  when  at  last 
the  gleam  of  Pickering's  cigar  was  steady  and 
bright,  "  open  your  budget  of  news,  old  fel- 
low," he  added,  with  difficulty  restraining  his 
impatience. 

"  It  ought  not  to  be  any  news,"  declared 
Pickering,  with  extreme  abruptness,  "  for  I've 
never  tried  to  conceal  it.  I  love  Polly." 

Jasper  started  so  suddenly  his  arm  knocked 
from  the  table  a  slender  crystal  vase,  that  broke 
into  a  dozen  pieces. 

"Never  mind,"  he  said,  at  Pickering's  dis- 
mayed exclamation,  "go  on." 


176   POLLY  LOOKS  OUT  FOR  CHARLOTTE. 

Whew  —  puff !  floated  the  rings  of  cigar 
smoke  over  Pickering's  head.  "And  I  can't 
stand  it,  and  I  won't,  waiting  any  longer  to  tell 
her  so.  Why,  man,"  he  turned  savagely  now 
on  Jasper,  "  I've  loved  her  for  years,  and  must 
I  be  bullied  and  badgered  out  of  my  rights  by 
men  who  have  only  just  been  introduced  to 
her  —  say  ?  " 

"Whom  do  you  mean?"  asked  Jasper  husk- 
ily, his  fingers  working  over  the  table-cloth, 
under  the  pretense  of  pulling  the  creases 
straight. 

"  Why,  that  Loughead  chap,"  said  Pickering, 
bringing  his  hand  down  heavily  on  the  table  ; 
"  he  has  more  sweet  words  from  Polly  Pepper 
in  a  week  than  I  get  in  a  month  —  and  I  such 
an  old  friend !  " 

"  Polly  is  so  anxious  to  help  his  sister,"  Jas- 
per made  out  to  say. 

"  Well,  that's  no  reason  why  the  fellow 
should  hang  around  forever,"  declared  Picker- 
ing angrily. 

"  Why,  he's  gone  abroad !  "  exclaimed  Jas- 
per, "  long  ago." 

"  Ah,  but  he's  coming  back,"  said  Pickering, 


POLLY    LOOKS    OUT    FOR    CHARLOTTE.        177 

with  a  sage  nod,  and  knocking  off  the  ashes 
from  his  cigar  end. 

"  Is  that  so  ?  "  cried  Jasper,  in  astonishment. 

"  Yes,  'tis,"  declared  Pickering,  nodding 
again,  "and  I  don't  like  it.  You  know  as 
well  as  I  do,"  squaring  around  on  Jasper,  "  that 
he  don't  care  a  rap  about  his  sister's  getting 
on ;  he's  only  thinking  of  Polly,  and  I  love 
her." 

Seeing  that  something  was  expected  of  him, 
Jasper  made  out  to  say,  "  You  do  ?  " 

"  Of  course  I  do  ;  and  you  know  it,  and  every 
one  knows  it,  or  ought  to  ;  I  haven't  ever  tried 
to  conceal  it,"  said  Pickering  proudly. 

"  How  do  you  know  that  Loughead  is  com- 
ing back  ?  "  asked  Jasper  abruptly. 

"  How  do  I  know  ?  The  best  way  in  the 
world."  Pickering  moved  uneasily  in  his 
chair.  "  Hibbard  Crane  had  a  letter  yesterday  ; 
that's  the  reason  I  threw  my  traps  together  and 
started  for  you." 

"  For  me  ?  "  cried  Jasper,  in  surprise. 

"  Yes.  You've  got  to  help  me.  I  can't 
stand  it,  waiting  around  any  longer.  It  has 
almost  killed  me  as  it  is."  Pickering  threw 


178   POLLY  LOOKS  OUT  FOE  CHARLOTTE. 

his  head  on  the  chair-back  and  took  savage 
pulls  at  the  cigar  between  his  teeth. 

"  I  help  you  ?  "  cried  Jasper,  too  astonished 
to  do  much  more  than  to  repeat  the  words. 
"  How  in  all  this  world  can  I  do  anything  in 
the  matter?"  he  demanded,  as  soon  as  he 
could  find  his  voice. 

"  Why,  you  can  tell  Polly  how  it  is ;  you're 
her  brother,  or  as  good  as  one ;  and  she'll  see 
it  from  you.  And  you  must  hurry  about  it, 
too,  for  I  expect  that  Loughead  will  turn  up 
soon.  He  means  mischief,  he  does." 

"  See  here,  Pick,"  cried  Jasper,  getting  out 
of  his  chair  hastily  to  face  Pickering,  "you 
don't  know  what  you  are  asking.  Why,  I 
couldn't  do  it.  The  very  idea ;  I  never  heard 
of  such  a  thing  !  You  —  you  must  speak  to 
Polly  yourself." 

"  I  can't,"  said  Pickering,  in  a  burst,  and 
bringing  up  his  head  suddenly.  "  She  won't 
give  me  the  ghost  of  a  cnance.  There's  al- 
ways those  girls  around  her ;  and  she's  been 
away  an  age  at  Mrs.  Whitney's .  And  ever- 
lastingly somebody  is  sick  or  getting  hurt,  and 
they  won't  have  anybody  but  Polly.  You 


POLLY  LOOKS  OUT  FOR  CHARLOTTE.    179 

know  how  it  is  yourself,  Jasper,"  and  he  turned 
on  him  an  injured  countenance. 

"Well,  don't  come  to  me,"  cried  Jasper, 
beginning  to  pace  the  floor  irritably.  "  I 
couldn't  ever  speak  on  such  a  subject  to  Polly. 
Beside  it  would  be  the  very  way  to  set  her 
against  you.  It  would  any  girl ;  can't  you  see 
it,  Pick  ?  "  he  added,  brightening  up. 

"  Girls  are  queer,"  observed  Pickering  shrewd- 
ly, "  and  the  very  thing  you  think  they  won't 
like,  they  take  to  amazingly.  Oh,  you  go  along, 
Jasper,  and  let  her  see  how  matters  stand ;  how 
I  feel,  I  mean." 

"  You  will  do  your  own  speaking,"  said  Jas- 
per, in  his  most  crusty  fashion,  and  without 
turning  his  head. 

"  I  did;  that  is,  I  tried  to  last  night  after  I  met 
Crane,"  began  Pickering,  in  a  shamefaced  way, 
"  but  I  couldn't  get  even  a  chance  to  see  Polly." 

"  How's  that  ? "  asked  Jasper,  still  marching 
up  and  down  the  floor  ;  "  wasn't  she  home  ?  " 

"  Why,  she  sent  Charlotte  Chatterton  down 
to  see  me,"  said  Pickering,  very  much  aggrieved, 
"  and  I  hate  that  Chatterton  girl." 

"  Why  couldn't  Polly  see  you  ? "  went  on 


180        POLLY    LOOKS    OUT    FOR    CHARLOTTE. 

Jasper,  determined,  since  his  assistance  was 
asked,  to  go  to  the  root  of  the  matter. 

"  Oh,  somebody  in  the  establishment,  I  don't 
know  who,  had  a  finger-ache,  I  suppose,"  said 
Pickering,  carelessly  throwing  away  his  cigar 
end  and  lighting  a  fresh  one,  "  and  wanted 
Polly.  Never  mind  why;"  she  couldn't  come 
down,  she  sent  word.  So  I  gave  up  in  despair. 
See  here  now,  Jasper,  you  must  help  me  out." 

"  I  tell  you  I  won't,"  declared  Jasper,  with 
rising  irritation,  "  not  in  that  way." 

"You  won't?" 

"  No,  I  won't.     I  can't,  my  dear  fellow." 

"  Well,  there's  a  great  end  of  our  friend- 
ship," exclaimed  Pickering,  red  with  anger,  and 
he  jumped  to  his  feet.  "  Do  you  mean  to  say, 
Jasper  King,  that  you  won't  do  such  a  simple 
thing  for  me  as  to  say  a  word  to  your  sister 
Polly,  when  I  tell  you  it's  all  up  with  me  if  you 
don't  speak  that  word  — say  ?  " 

"  You  oughtn't  to  ask  such  a  thing ;  it's  des- 
picable in  you,"  cried  Jasper,  aghast  to  find  his 
anger  rising  at  each  word.  "  And  if  you 
insist  in  making  such  a  request  when  I  tell  you 
that  I  cannot  speak  to  Polly  for  you,  why,  I 


POLLY    LOOKS    OUT    FOB    CHARLOTTE.        181 

shall  be  forced  to  repeat  what  I  said  at  first, 
that  I  won't  have  anything  to  do  with  it." 

"  Do  you  mean  it,"  Pickering  put  himself  in 
front  of  Jasper's  advancing  strides,  "  that  you 
will  not  speak  to  Polly  for  me  ?" 

« I  do." 

"  I  tell  you,"  declared  Pickering,  now  quite 
beside  himself,  "  it's  absolutely  necessary  for 
me  to  have  your  word  with  her,  Jasper  King." 

"  And  I  tell  you  I  can't  give  that  word," 
said  Jasper.  Then  he  stopped  short,  and 
looked  into  Pickering's  face.  "  I'm  sorry,  old 
chap,"  and  he  put  out  his  hand. 

Pickering  knocked  it  aside  in  a  towering 
passion.  "  You  needn't  '  old  chap '  me,"  he 
cried.  "  And  there's  an  end  to  our  friendship, 
King."  He  seized  his  hat  and  dashed  out  of 
the  room. 

"  Miss  Salisbury ! "  Alexia  Rhys,  in  real 
distress,  threw  herself  against  her  old  teacher, 
who  was  hurrying  through  the  long  school-room. 

"  Well,  what  is  it  ? "  asked  Miss  Salisbury, 
settling  her  glasses  for  a  look  at  her  former 
pupil.  "  You  mustn't  hinder  me  ;  I'm  on  my 


182        POLLY    LOOKS    OUT    FOE    CHARLOTTE. 

way  to  the  recitation  room,"  and   her   hand 
made  a  movement  toward  her  watch. 

"  Oh,  don't  think  of  time,  Miss  Salisbury  !  " 
begged  Alexia,  just  as  familiarly  as  in  the  old 
days,  "  when  Polly  Pepper  needs  to  be  looked 
out  for." 

"  If  Polly  Pepper  needs  me  in  any  way,  why, 
I  must  stop,"  said  the  principal  of  the  "Young 
Ladies'  Select  Boarding  and  Day  School," 
"  but  I  don't  see  how  she  can  need  me,  Alexia," 
she  added  in  perplexity,  "  Polly  is  fully  capable 
of  taking  care  of  herself."  ' 

"  Oh,  no,  she  isn't,"  cried  Alexia  abruptly. 
•«  Beg  your  pardon,  but  Polly  is  a  dear,  sweet, 
dreadful  idiot.  Oh  dear  me  !  what  do  you  sup- 
pose, Miss  Salisbury,  she  has  gone  and  done  ?  " 
"  I  am  quite  at  a  loss  to  guess,"  said  Miss 
Salisbury  calmly,  "-and  I  must  say,  Alexia,  I 
am  very  much  pained  by  your  failure  to  profit 
by  my  instructions.  To  think  that  one  of  my 
young  ladies,  especially  one  on  whom  I  have 
spent  so  much  care  and  attention  as  yourself, 
should  be  so  careless  in  speech  and  manner,  as 
you  are  constantly.  '  Gone  and  done  '  -  -  oh, 
Alexia !  "  she  exclaimed  in  a  grieved  way. 


POLLY    LOOKS    OUT    FOR    CHARLOTTE.        183 

"  Oh,  I  know,"  cried  Alexia  imperturbably, 
"you  did  your  best,  dear  Miss  Salisbury,  and  it 
isn't  your  fault  that  I'm  not  fine.  But  oh, 
don't  waste  the  time,  please,  over  me,  when  I 
want  to  tell  you  about  Polly." 

"  What  is  it  about  Polly  ?  "  demanded  Miss 
Salisbury,  fingering  her  watch-chain  nervously. 
"  Really,  Alexia,  I  think  Polly  would  do  very 
well  if  you  didn't  try  so  hard  to  take  posses- 
sion of  her.  I  quite  pity  her,"  she  added 
frankly. 

Alexia  burst  into  a  laugh.  "  It's  the  only 
way  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  her,  Miss  Salisbury," 
she  cried,  "  for  everybody  is  trying  to  take  pos- 
session of  Polly  Pepper.  And  now  —  oh,  it's 
getting  perfectly  dreadful !  " 

Miss  Salisbury  took  an  impatient  step  forward. 

"  Oh,  Miss  Salisbury,"  cried  Alexia  in  alarm, 
"  wait  just  a  minute,  do,  dear  Miss  Salisbury," 
she  cried,  throwing  her  arms  around  her,  there- 
by endangering  the  glasses  set  upon  the  fine 
Roman  nose,  "  there  can't  any  one  help  in  this 
but  just  you." 

"  It  is  very  wrong,"  said  Miss  Salisbury,  yet 
yielding  to  the  embrace,  "  for  roe  to  stay  and 


184       POLLY    LOOKS    OUT    FOR   CHARLOTTE. 

listen  to  you  in  this  way,  but  —  but  I've 
always  been  fond  of  you,  Alexia,  and  " 

"  I  know  it,"  cried  Alexia  penitently,  "  you've 
just  been  a  dear,  always,  Miss  Salisbury,  to  me. 
If  you  hadn't,  why,  I  don't  know  what  I  should 
have  done,  for  I  had  nobody  but  aunt,"  with  a 
little  pathetic  sniff,  "  to  look  after  me." 

"  My  dear  Alexia,"  cried  Miss  Salisbury,  quite 
softened,  "  don't  feel  so.  You  are  very  dear  to 
me.  You  always  were,"  patting  her  hand. 
"  And  so  what  is  it  that  you  want  to  tell  me 
now  ?  Pray  be  quick,  dear." 

"  Well,  then,  will  you  promise  to  make  Polly 
Pepper  do  what  she  ought  to,  Miss  Salisbury?" 
cried  Alexia,  quite  enchanted  with  her  success 
thus  far. 

Miss  Salisbury  turned  a  puzzled  face  at  her. 
"  Will  I  make  Polly  Pepper  do  as  she  ought 
to  ?  "  she  repeated.  "  My  dear  Alexia,  what  a 
strange  request.  Polly  Pepper  is  always  doing 
as  she  ought." 

"Well,  Polly  is  just  hateful  to  herself," 
declared  Alexia,  "  and  if  it  wasn't  for  us  girls, 
she'd  —  oh,  dear  me !  I  don't  know  what 
would  happen.  What  do  you  suppose,  Miss 


POLLY    LOOKS    OUT    FOR   CHARLOTTE.        187 

Salisbury,  she's  gone  and  —  oh  dear,  I  didn't 
mean  to  —  but  what  do  you  suppose  Polly  has 
just  done  ?  " 

Before  Miss  Salisbury  could  reply,  Alexia 
rushed  on  frantically.  "  If  you'll  believe  me, 
Polly  has  gone  and  asked  that  Charlotte  Chat- 
terton  to  sing  at  her  Recital;  just  think  of 
that!"  exclaimed  Alexia,  quite  gone  at  the 
enormity  of  such  a  blunder. 

"  Why,  doesn't  Charlotte  Chatterton  sing 
well  ?  "  asked  Miss  Salisbury,  in  surprise. 

"  Oh,  frightfully  well,"  said  Alexia,  "  that's 
just  the  trouble.  And  now  Polly's  Recital 
will  all  be  part  of  that  Chatterton  girl's  glory. 
And  it  was  to  be  so  swell !  "  And  Alexia  sank 
into  a  chair,  and  waved  back  and  forth  in  grief. 

"  Swell !  Oh,  Alexia,"  exclaimed  Miss  Salis- 
bury in  consternation. 

"  Oh,  do  excuse  me,"  mumbled  Alexia,  "  but 
Polly  really  has  spoiled  that  elegant  Recital. 
It  won't  be  all  Polly's,  now.  Oh,  dear  me  !  " 

Miss  Salisbury  drew  a  long  breath.  "  I'm 
very  glad  Polly  has  asked  Miss  Chatterton  to 
sing,"  she  said  at  last.  "  It  was  the  right  thing 
to  do." 


188        POLLY    LOOKS    OUT    FOK    CHARLOTTE. 

"  Very  glad  that  Polly  has  asked  that  Chat- 
terton  girl  to  sing  ?  "  almost  shrieked  Alexia, 
starting  out  of  her  chair. 

"  Yes,"  said  Miss  Salisbury  decidedly.  "  Very 
glad  indeed,  Alexia." 

"  And  now  you  won't  make  Polly  see  that 
Charlotte  Chatterton  ought  not  to  be  stuck  into 
that  Recital '?  "  cried  Alexia  wildly.  "  Oh,  dear 
me !  and  you  are  the  only  one  that  can  bring 
Polly  to  her  senses  —  oh,  dear  me  !  " 

"  Certainly  not,"  said  Miss  Salisbury,  with  a 
little  dignified  laugh.  "  The  Recital  is  Polly's, 
and  she  knows  best  how  to  manage  it." 

"  Well,  we  won't  applaud,  we  girls  won't," 
declared  Alexia,  stiffening  up,  "  when  that 
Charlotte  Chatterton  sings ;  but  we'll  all  just 
look  the  other  way  —  every  single  one  of  us." 

"  Alexia  Rhys  !  "  slowly  ejaculated  Miss 
Salisbury  ki  real  sorrow. 

"  Well,  we  can't ;  it  wouldn't  be  right,"  gasped 
Alexia.  "  Don't  look  so,  Miss  Salisbury.  Oh, 
dear  me,  why  will  Polly  act  so !  Oh,  dear  me ! 
I  wish  Charlotte  Chatterton  was  in  the  Red 
Sea." 

Miss  Salisbury  gathered  herself  up  in  quiet 


POLLY    LOOKS    OUT    FOB    CHARLOTTE.        189 

disapproval ;  and  with  a  parting  look  prepared 
to  leave  the  room. 

"  Oh,  Miss  Salisbury,"  cried  Alexia,  flying 
after  her,  to  pluck  her  gown,  "  do  turn  around. 
Oh,  dear  me !  "  and  she  began  to  cry  as  hard  as 
she  could. 

"  When  you  have  come  to  your  better  self, 
Alexia,  I  will  talk  with  you,"  said  Miss  Salis- 
bury distinctly,  and  she  went  out,  and  closed 
the  door. 

"  Did  she  say  she  would  —  did  she  —  did 
she?"  cried  a  group  of  the  "  old  girls,"  as  Miss 
Salisbury's  present  scholars  called  Polly  and 
her  set,  as  they  came  tiptoeing  in.  "Why, 
where  are  you,  Alexia  ?  " 

"  Here,"  said  a  dismal  voice  from  the  depths 
of  a  corner  easy  chair.  They  all  rushed  at 
her. 

"  I've  had  an  awful  time  with  her,"  sobbed 
Alexia,  her  face  buried  in  her  handkerchief, 
"  and  I  suppose  it  really  will  kill  me,  girls." 

"  Nonsense  ! "  cried  one  or  two.  "  Well, 
what  did  she  say  about  making  Polly  listen  to 
reason  ?  " 


190    POLLY  LOOKS  OUT  FOR  CHARLOTTE. 

"  Oh,  dreadful  —  dreadful !  "  groaned  Alexia 
gustily.  "  You  can't  think  !  " 

"  You  don't  mean  to  say  that  she  approves, 
after  all  that  Polly  Pepper  has  worked  over 
that  old  Recital,  to  "  - 

—  "  Have  some  one  else  come  in  and  grab  the 
glory  ?  "  finished  another  voice. 

"  Oh,  dear  —  dear  !  "  groaned  Alexia  in  be- 
tween. "  And  Miss  Salisbury  would  kill  you, 
Clem,  if  she  heard  you  say  '  grab.' " 

"  Well,  do  tell  us,  what  did  Miss  Salisbury 
say?"  demanded  another  girl  impatiently. 

"  She  said  it  was  right  for  Polly  to  ask  Char- 
lotte Chatterton  to  sing,  and  she  was  glad  she 
was  going  to  do  it." 

"Oh,  horrors!  "  exclaimed  the  group  in  dis- 
mal chorus. 

"  The  idea !  as  much  as  she  loves  Polly 
Pepper ! "  cried  Sally  Moore. 

«  And  I  hate  the  word  '  right,' "  exploded 
Alexia,  whirling  her  handkerchief  around  her 
fingers.  "  Now !  It's  poked  at  one  everlast- 
ingly. I  think  it's  just  sweet  to  be  wicked." 

"Oh,  Alexia  Rhys!" 

"  Well,  just  a  little  bit  wicked,"  said  Alexia. 


POLLY    LOOKS    OUT    FOB    CHARLOTTE.        191 

Cathie  Harrison  shook  back  the  waves  of 
light  hair  on  her  brow.  "  Girls,"  she  began 
hesitatingly.  But  no  one  would  listen;  the 
laments  were  going  on  so  fast  over  Polly  and 
her  doings. 

"  It  is  right ! "  cried  Cathie  at  last,  after 
many  ineffectual  attempts  to  be  heard.  "  Do 
stop,  girls,  making  such  a  noise,"  she  added 
impatiently. 

"  That's  a  great  way  to  preach,"  said  Clem, 
laughing,  "  lose  your  temper  to  begin  with, 
Cathie." 

"  I  didn't  —  that  is,  I'm  sorry,"  said  Cathie. 
"  But,  anyway,  I  want  to  say  I  ought  to  have 
been  ashamed  to  act  so  about  that  Chatterton 
girl.  Where  should  I  have  been  if  Polly  Pep- 
per hadn't  taken  me  up  ?  " 

She  looked  down  the  long  aisle  to  a  seat  in 
the  corner.  "  There's  where  I  sat,"  pointing  to 
it,  "and  you  all  know  it,  for  a  whole  week, 
and  I  thought  I  should  die  ;  I  did,"  tragically, 
"  without  any  one  speaking  to  me.  And  one 
day  Polly  Pepper  came  up  and  asked  wouldn't 
I  come  to  her  house  to  the  Bee  you  were  all 
going  to  get  up  to  fit  out  that  horrible  old 


192        POLLY    LOOKS    OUT    FOR   CHARLOTTE. 

poor  white  family  down  South.  And  I  wanted 
to  get  up  and  scream,  I  was  so  glad." 

"  Cathie  Harrison,"  exclaimed  Alexia,  spring- 
ing to  her  feet  defiantly,  "  what  do  you  want  to 
bring  back  those  dreadful  old  times  for !  You 
are  the  most  uncomfortable  person  I  ever  saw." 

"  You  needn't  mind  it  now,  Alexia,"  cried 
Cathie,  rushing  at  her,  "  for  you've  been  too 
lovely  for  anything  ever  since  —  you  dear !  " 

"  I  lovely  ?  oh,  girls,  did  you  hear  ?  "  cried 
Alexia,  sinking  into  her  chair  again,  quite  over- 
come. "  She  said  1  was  lovely  —  oh,  dear  me ! " 

"  And  so  you  are,"  repeated  Cathie  stoutly ; 
"just  as  nice  and  sweet  and  lovely  to  me  as 
you  can  be.  So ! "  throwing  her  long  arms 
around  Alexia. 

"  I  didn't  want  to  be ;  Polly  made  me," 
said  Alexia. 

"  I  know  it ;  but  I  don't  care.  You  are  nice 
now,  any  way." 

"  And  I  suppose  we  must  be  nice  to  that 
Chatterton  girl  now,  if  she  does  break  up  our 
fun,"  said  Alexia  with  a  sigh,  getting  out  of  her 
chair.  "  Come  on,  girls ;  let  us  go  and  tell  Polly 
it's  just  heavenly  that  Charlotte  is  to  sing." 


CHAPTER   IX. 

POLLY'S    RECITAL, 

/CHARLOTTE  CHATTERTON  stood  back 
\J  of  the  portiere  pulling  a  refractory  button 
of  her  glove  into  place,  as  a  gay  group  precipi- 
tated themselves  into  the  dressing-room  of  The 
Exeter. 

"Now  remember,  girls,"  cried  Alexia,  rush- 
ing at  the  toilet  table  to  bestow  frantic  twitches 
at  the  fluffy  waves  of  hair  over  her  forehead, 
"  that  we  must  applaud  the  very  minute  that 
she  gets  through  singing.  Oh  dear  me,  just 
look  at  my  bangs ;  they  are  perfect  frights. 
Hateful  things!"  with  another  pull  at  the 
offending  locks. 

"  It's  a  swell  house,"  exclaimed  one  of  the 
girls  delightedly. 

"  Just  let  Miss  Salisbury  catch  you  saying 
'  swell,' "  warned  Alexia.  "  Take  care  now, 
193 


194  POLLY'S  RECITAL. 

Sally  Moore,  this  is  a  very  proper  and  select 
occasion." 

"  Well,  do  let  some  of  us  have  that  glass  a  min- 
ute," retorted  Sally,  "  and  mend  your  manners 
before  you  take  occasion  to  correct  my  speech." 

"  My  bangs  are  worse  than  yours,  Sally,"  cried 
another  girl,  crowding  up  ;  "  do  let  me  get  one 
corner  of  that  glass,"  trying  to  achieve  a  view 
of  her  head  over  Alexia's  shoulder. 

Alexia  calmly  picked  at  the  fluffy  bunch  of 
hair  on  her  brow,  giving  it  a  little  quirk  before 
she  said,  "Don't  fight,  girls  ;  it  quite  spoils  one's 
looks ;  I  never  do  when  I'm  dressed  up." 

"  Of  course  not,"  said  Sally  Moore,  "  for  you 
get  everything  you  want  without  fighting." 

"The  idea!"  exclaimed  Alexia,  with  an  in- 
jured expression,  "  when  I  never  have  my  own 
way.  Why,  I  give  up  and  give  up  the  whole 
time  to  somebody.  Well,  never  mind ;  let's 
talk  about  the  Recital.  Oh,  it's  going  to  be 
quite  elegant  for  Polly  Pepper.  There's  a  reg- 
ular society  cram  in  the  Hall." 

"  Well,  I  don't  think  '  society  cram '  is  a 
bit  better  than  a  '  swell  affair,'  "  said  Clem  For- 
sythe,  slipping  out  of  her  opera  cloak. 


POLLY'S  RECITAL.  195 

"  Nor  I  either,"  cried  three  or  four  voices. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  object  to  '  swell  affair  '  my- 
self," said  Alexia  ;  "  I  have  used  the  words  on 
more  than  one  occasion,  unless  my  memory  is 
treacherous.  I  only  wanted  to  spare  Miss  Salis- 
bury's nerves." 

"  Pity  you  didn't  give  more  attention  to  Miss 
Salisbury's  nerves  five  or  six  years  ago,"  said 
Sally.  "  Do  get  away  from  that  glass." 

"  It's  no  time  to  talk  about  me  now,"  ob- 
served Alexia.  "  All  our  minds  should  be  on 
Polly,  and  her  Recital.  Girls,  did  you  see  Jack 
Loughead  down  at  the  door  ?  " 

"  Didn't  we  ?  "  cried  the  girls. 

"  He's  as  handsome  as  a  picture,  isn't  he  ? " 
cried  Alexia,  with  another  little  pull  at  her 
rebellious  hair. 

"Isn't  he?"  hummed  the  girls. 

"  Well,  he  won't  look  at  you,  for  all  your  fuss- 
ing over  those  bangs,"  said  Sally  vindictively. 

"Did  you  suppose  I  thought  he  would?" 
cried  Alexia  coolly.  "  Why,  it's  Polly  Pepper, 
everybody  knows,  that  brings  him  here." 

"  What's  become  of  Mr.  Bayley?"  asked  one 
of  the  girls  suddenly. 


196  POLLY'S  RECITAL. 

-"  Hush  —  sh  !  you  mustn't  ask,"  cried  Alexia 
mysteriously,  and  turning  away  from  the  mir- 
ror, with  a  lingering  movement ;  "  there,  it  looks 
shockingly,  but  it  is  as  good  as  I  can  fix  it." 

"  Your  hair  always  does  look  perfectly  hor- 
rid," declared  Sally  Moore,  deftly  slipping  into 
the  vacated  place. 

"  Well,  do  tell  all  you  know  about  Mr.  Bay- 
ley  and  Polly,"  begged  the  girl  who  had  raised 
the  question,  "  I'm  just  dying  to  know." 

"  Alexia  Rhys  doesn't  know  a  thing  more 
than  we  do,  Frances,"  said  Clem,  "  only  she 
pretends  she's  in  the  secret." 

"  I  was  down  at  Dunraven  at  the  Christmas 
splurge,"  said  Alexia,  "  and  you  were  not, 
Clem.  That's  all  I  shall  say,"  and  she  leisurely 
disposed  herself  in  a  big  chair,  and  began  to 
draw  on  her  gloves,  with  the  air  of  one  who 
could  reveal  volumes  were  she  so  disposed. 

"  Polly  wouldn't  ever  send  him  off,"  said  one 
of  the  girls,  "  I  don't  believe.  Why,  he's  horri- 
bly rich ;  and  just  think  of  marrying  into  the 
Bayley  family  —  oh  my  !  " 

"  I  should  think  the  shock  of  being  asked  to 
enter  that  family,  would  kill  any  girl,  to  begin 


POLLY'S  RECITAL.  197 

with,"  said  Clem.  "  Why,  he  goes  back  to  Wil- 
liam the  Conqueror,  doesn't  he  ?  And  there's 
an  earl  in  the  family,  and  I  don't  know  what 
else.  And  then  beside,  there's  his  mother; 
the  idea  of  sitting  opposite  to  her  at  the  table 
every  single  day  —  oh  dear  me !  I  know  I 
should  drop  my  knife  and  fork  and  things, 
from  pure  fright." 

"  I'm  sure  I  don't  see  why  anybody  is  proud 
to  have  his  family  go  back  all  the  time,"  said 
Alexia  Rhys ;  "  for  my  part  I  should  want  to 
start  things  forward  a  little  myself." 

"  Well,  who  does  know  anything  about  it, 
why  Mr.  Bayley  has  gone  off  suddenly  ?  "  de- 
manded Frances. 

"  No  one  knows,"  said  Clem. 

Alexia  hummed  a  tune  provokingly. 

"  We  all  guess,  and  it's  easy  enough  to  guess 
the  truth  ;  but  Polly  won't  ever  let  it  out,  so 
that's  all  there  is  about  it." 

"Well,  now,  girls,"  said  Alexia  suddenly, 
"  we  must  remember  what  we  promised  each 
other." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  asked  Frances  ;  "  I 
didn't  promise  anything  to  anybody." 


198  POLLY'S  RECITAL. 

"  You  weren't  with  us  when  we  promised, 

* 

ray  dear,"  answered  Alexia,  "  and  I'll  rise  and 
explain.  You  see  we  don't  any  of  us  like  that 
Charlotte  Chatterton  ;  not  a  single  one  of  us. 
She's  a  perfect  stick,  I  think." 

"  So  do  I,"  said  another  girl ;  "  this  is  the  way 
she  walks."  Thereupon  followed  a  represen- 
tation given  to  the  life,  of  Charlotte  Chatter- 
ton's  method  of  getting  her  long  figure  over 
the  ground,  which  brought  subdued  peals  of 
laughter  from  the  girls  looking  on. 

"  And  she  has  no  more  feeling  than  an  oys- 
ter," pursued  Alexia,  when  she  had  recovered 
her  breath,  "  or  she  might  see  that  Polly  was 
just  giving  up  all  her  fun  and  ours  too,  by 
dragging  her  into  everything  that  is  going  on." 

"  I  know  it,"  said  the  girls. 

"  And  I'm  so  sick  of  her  taking  in  every- 
thing so  as  a  matter  of  course,"  observed 
Alexia ;  "  oh  !  she's  quite  an  old  sponge." 

"  It's  bad  enough  to  be  called  an  oyster, 
without  having  old  sponge  fastened  to  one," 
said  Sally  Moore,  coming  away  from  the  mir- 
ror, thereby  occasioning  another  rush  for  that 
useful  dressing-room  appointment. 


POLLY'S  RECITAL.  199 

"  Well,  she  is  both  of  those  very  things,"  de- 
clared Alexia,  "  nevertheless  we  must  applaud 
her  dreadfully  when  she's  finished  singing. 
That's  what  we  promised  each  other,  Frances. 
It  will  please  Polly,  you  know." 

"  You  better  hurry,  or  you  will  lose  your 
seats,"  announced  a  friendly  voice  in  the  door- 
way, which  had  the  effect  to  send  the  whole 
bevy  out  as  precipitately  as  they  had  hurried  in. 

When  she  was  quite  sure  that  no  one  re- 
mained, Charlotte  Chatterton  shook  herself  free 
from  the  friendly  portiere-folds,  and  stepped  to 
the  center  of  the  deserted  room. 

"  I'll  not  sing  one  note  !  "  she  declared,  stand- 
ing tall,  "  not  one  single  note !  "  Just  then,  in 
ran  Amy  Loughead. 

"  Oh  dear,  and  oh  dear ! " 

"  What  is  the  matter  ?  "  asked  Charlotte,  not 
moving. 

"  Oh,  I'm  so  frightened,"  gasped  Amy,  shiv- 
ering from  head  to  foot,  "there  are  so  many 
people  in  there,  oh  —  oh  !  I  can't  play  !  " 
beating  her  hands  together  in  terror. 

"  You  must,"  said  Charlotte  unsympathiz- 
ingly. 


200  POLLY'S  RECITAL. 

«  I  can't  —  I  can't.  Oh,  I  shall  die !  The 
hall  is  full,  and  they  keep  coming  in.  Oh  — 
Miss  Pepper ! " 

For  Polly,  in  her  soft  white  gown,  was  com- 
ing quickly  into  the  dressing-room. 

"  Your  hands  are  just  as  cold  as  ice,"  said 
Polly,  gathering  up  Amy's  shaking  little  palms 
into  her  own.  "There  now,  we'll  see  if  we 
can't  coax  them  into  playing  order,"  rubbing 
them  between  her  own  warm  ones. 

"  Oh,  I  can  feel  all  those  people's  eyes*  star- 
ing through  me,"  cried  Amy,  huddling  up 
against  Polly. 

"You  mustn't  think  of  their  eyes,  child," 
laughed  Polly.  But  there  was  a  little  white 
line  around  her  mouth.  Just  then  a  messenger 
came  in  with  a  note. 

"  Any  answer  ?  "  asked  Polly.  "  Oh,  stay ;  I 
would  better  read  it  before  you  go."  And  she 
tore  it  open. 

"  I  am  so  sorry  that  I  cannot  keep  my  engagement 
to  play  the  duet  with  Miss  Porter,  but  the  doctor 
has  just  been  here,  and  he  says  I  must  not  go  out.  I 
should  have  written  this  morning  that  I  had  a  sore 
throat,  but  I  thought  I  could  manage  to  go.  I'm  so 
sorry  —  oh,  Miss  Pepper,  I'm  so  sorry ! 

JULIA  AXDEUSON." 


"I'LL.  NOT  SUNG  A  NOTE!" 


POLLY'S  RECITAL.  203 

The  note  feM  to  Polly's  lap,  and  for  a  minute 
she  could  not  speak.  "There  is  no  answer," 
at  last  she  said  to  the  messenger. 

"  Oh,  Miss  Pepper,  what  is  it  ? "  cried  Amy 
Longhead,  brought  out  of  her  own  fright,  by 
the  dread  of  a  new  trouble. 

"  Julia  Anderson  is  sick  and  cannot  be  here," 
said  Polly. 

"  Oh,  dear  !  and  she  was  going  to  play  with 
Miss  Porter.  What  will  you  do  ?  "  cried  Amy 
in  consternation. 

"  Why,  I  shall  have  to  take  her  place,"  said 
Polly,  forcing  herself  to  speak. 

"  Oh,  dear  —  dear  !  "  exclaimed  Amy,  trying 
not  to  burst  into  tears.  "  Everything  is  just  as 
bad  and  horrid  as  it  can  be.  Oh,  dear,  dear, 
and  I  can't  play  ;  I  should  disgrace  you  ! " 

"  Oh,  no,  no,  Amy,"  said  Polly,  trying  to 
smile,  "  that  you'll  never  do."  She  threw  the 
note  on  the  floor  now,  and  began  to  rub  the 
cold  little  hands  again. 

"  But  —  but,  I'm  so  frightened,"  gasped 
Amy. 

Charlotte  Chatterton  walked  to  the  window. 

u  I  may  be  a  stick,  and  an  oyster,  and  an  old 


204  POLLY'S  RECITAL. 

sponge,  and  everybody  wish  me  out  of  the  way, 
but  I'm  not  such  a  villain  as  to  bother  her  now 
by  telling  her  I  won't  sing.  If  they  only  won't 
applaud !  "  She  shut  her  teeth  tightly,  and 
turned  back  again. 

"  I  wouldn't,  Miss  Loughead,"  she  began. 
But  her  voice  sounded  cold  and  unsympathetic, 
and  Amy  clung  to  Polly  tighter  than  ever. 

Ben  now  looked  in.  "  Come,  Polly,"  he  said. 
"  You  really  ought  to  be  out  here,  and  it's 
almost  three  o'clock." 

Amy  gave  a  gasp.     "  What  shall  I  do  ?  " 

"  You  may  stay  in  here,  if  you  really  wish," 
said  Polly  in  a  low  voice,  Charlotte  Chatterton 
looking  on  with  all  her  eyes,  "  and  I  will  excuse 
you." 

"  And  will  —  will  you  be  disappointed  in 
me  ? "  Amy  brought  out  the  question  shame- 
facedly. 

"  Very  much,"  said  Polly. 

"And  will  you  never  try  me  again — and 
never  give  me  music  lessons  ? "  asked  Amy 
fearfully. 

"  I  do  not  seem  to  teach  you  successfully," 
said  Polly  very  slowly,  "  so  it  would  be  no  use 


POLLY'S  RECITAL.  205 

to  continue  the  lessons."  And  she  put  aside 
the  clinging  hands.  "  You  may  stay  here, 
Amy  ;  I  am  coming,  Ben,"  looking  over  at  him. 

"  I'll  play,"  cried  Amy  Loughead  desperately. 
"  I'd  rather,  oh,  dear  me,  if  they  were  bears 
and  gorillas  looking  on  —  and  I  just  know  I  shall 
die  —  but  I'd  rather,  Miss  Pepper,  than  to  have 
you  give  me  up." 

Charlotte  Chatterton  drew  a  long  breath. 

"  What's  the  matter?"  asked  Ben  in  dismay. 

"  Miss  Loughead  was  a  little  scared,  I  be- 
lieve," said  Charlotte,  with  a  touch  of  scorn  in 
her  manner. 

Ben  gave  an  uneasy  exclamation.  "  Every- 
thing seems  to  be  all  right  now,"  he  said,  in  a 
relieved  way,  looking  off  at  Polly  and  Amy. 

"  Oh,  yes;  a  scare  don't  amount  to  much  if 
one  has  a  mind  to  put  it  down,"  said  Charlotte. 

"  I  should  think  you'd  be  scared,"  said  Ben, 
looking  at  her  admiringly,  "  to  stand  up  and 
sing  before  all  those  people.  But  I  suppose 
you  never  are ;  you  don't  seem  to  mind  things 
like  the  rest  of  us." 

Charlotte  shrugged  her  shoulders,  but  said 
nothing. 


206  POLLY'S  KECITAL. 

••  We  are  all  ready,"  said  Polly  cheerfully 
coming  up  with  Amy.  u  Oh,  Charlotte,  you  are 
such  a  comfort,"  she  found  time  to  whisper. 

Charlotte  clasped  her  hands  tightly  togethei 
so  that  an  ominous  rent  appeared  in  one  of  her 
pretty  gloves.  "  I'll  sing,"  she  kept  saying  to 
herself  all  the  way  out  to  the  platform,  "  oh,  I'll 
sing  —  I'll  sing."  And  later  on,  while  looking 
down  into  the  eyes  of  the  girls  waiting  to  ap- 
plaud, u  I'll  sing  —  I'll  sing,"  she  had  to  declare 
to  herself  till  her  name  was  announced. 

As  the  last  note  died  away,  "  Who  is  that 
girl?"  went  around  the  hall.  Charlotte  Chat- 
terton  had  made  a  sensation. 

Alexia  Khys,  angry  at  the  effect  of  the  song, 
still  clapped  steadily  together  her  soft-gloved 
hands,  looking  at  Polly  with  the  air  of  a  martyr 
all  the  while. 

"  Charlotte  —  oh,  I'm  glad  !  "  whispered 
Polly  radiantly,  "  they  want  you  to  sing  again," 
trying  to  pull  her  forward,  as  the  storm  of  ap- 
plause went  on. 

"  I'll  not  sing !  "  cried  Charlotte  passionately. 
"  Never!  Don't  ask  it,  Polly." 

"Why,  Charlotte!"   implored  Polly,  aston- 


POLLY'S  RECITAL.  207 

ished  at  the  passion  in  the  girl  usually  so 
cold  and  indifferent.  Still  the  applause  con- 
tinued, Polly's  set  keeping  at  it  like  veterans. 

Ben  ran  up  the  platform  steps  with  shining 
eyes.  "  Grandpapa  requests  Charlotte  to  sing 
again,"  he  whispered  to  Polly. 

"There,  you  hear,  Charlotte,"  said  Polly, 
"  Grandpapa  wishes  it." 

"  Very  well,"  said  Charlotte,  resuming  her 
ordinary  manner,  and  looking  as  if  it  really 
made  no  difference  to  her  whether  she  sang  or 
was  quiet,  she  walked  to  her  place. 

Polly  slipped  back  of  the  piano,  and  began 
the  accompaniment,  and  again  Charlotte's  sing- 
ing carried  all  by  storm. 

Polly,  looking  d6wn  into  Jasper's  face,  saw 
him  smile  over  to  his  father,  and  nod  in  a 
pleased  surprise ;  and  she  was  aghast  to  feel  a 
faint  little  wish  begin  to  grow  in  her  heart,  that 
Charlotte  Chatterton  had  not  been  asked  to 
sing. 

"  Of  course  Jasper  is  surprised,  as  he  has 
never  heard  her  sing,"  said  Polly  to  herself, 
"  and  her  voice  is  so  beautiful  in  this  big  hall, 
oh,  it's  so  very  beautiful  I "  as  Charlotte  came 


208  POLLY'S  RECITAL. 

back,  apparently  not  hearing  the  expressions  of 
delight  that  rang  over  the  concert-room. 

"  That  Chatterton  girl  will  be  all  the  rage 
now,"  whispered  Alexia  savagely  to  Clem  who 
sat  next  to  her.  "  Look  at  Mrs.  Cabot.  She 
hasher  '  I'll-take-you-up-and-patronize-you  air' 
on,  and  1  know  she's  making  up  her  mind  to 
give  Charlotte  a  musicale." 

Other  people  also,  scattered  here  and  there 
in  the  hall,  were  making  up  their  minds  to  in- 
troduce Miss  Chatterton  to  their  friends ;  as  a 
girl  with  such  a  wonderful  voice,  it  would  be 
quite  worth  one's  while  to  bring  out. 

Polly,  by  this  time,  explaining  to  the  audi- 
ence, the  failure  of  Miss  Anderson  to  take  her 
part  in  the  duet,  caught  little  ends  of  the  whis- 
pers going  on  beneath  her,  such  as  "  Perfectly 
exquisite.*'  "  Most  wonderful  range."  "  Shall 
certainly  ask  her  to  sing."  And  again  she  saw 
Jasper's  beaming  face,  while  Ben  took  no  pains 
to  conceal  his  delight.  And  she  sat  down  to 
the  piano  mechanically,  and  began  in  a  dazed 
way  to  help  Miss  Porter  through  with  the 
duet  that  was  to  have  been  one  of  the  finest 
things  on  the  carefully  prepared  programme. 


POLLY'S  RECITAL.  211 

Suddenly,  in  the  midst  of  a  slow  movement, 
Polly  glanced  down  and  caught  her  mother's 
eye. 

"  Polly,"  it  said,  just  as  plainly  as  if  Mrs. 
Fisher  had  spoken,  "  is  this  my  girl  ?  For 
shame,  if  the  Little  Brown  House  teachings  are 
forgotten  like  this." 

Polly  straightened  up,  sent  Mamsie  down  a 
bright  smile  that  made  Mrs.  Fisher  nod,  and 
flash  back  one  in  return,  then  bent  all  her  ener- 
gies to  making  that  duet  speak  its  message 
through  the  concert-room.  People  who  had 
rather  languished  in  their  chairs,  now  gathered 
themselves  up  with  fresh  interest,  and  clapped 
their  hands  at  the  brilliant  passages,  and  ex- 
claimed over  the  ability  of  the  music  teacher 
who  could  change  an  apparent  failure  to  such 
a  glorious  success.  Everybody  said  it  was 
wonderful ;  and  when  the  duet  was  over,  the 
house  rang  with  the  charming  noise  by  which 
the  gratified  friends  tried  to  express  their  de- 
light. But  Polly  saw  only  Mamsie's  eyes,  filled 
with  joy. 

Meantime,  Charlotte  Chatterton  had  hurried 
out  to  the  dressing-room,  tossing  on  her  walk- 


212  POLLY'S  RECITAL. 

ing  things  with  a  quick  hand;  and  held  fast 
for  a  minute  as  she  crept  out  into  the  broad 
passage,  by  the  duet  now  in  full  progress,  she 
went  softly  down  the  stairs. 

When  it  was  all  over,  everybody  crowded 
around  Polly. 

"  Oh,  Miss  Pepper,  your  Recital  is  lovely ! 
oh,  how  beautifully  Miss  Chatterton  sang ! " 
and, 

"  Oh,  Miss  Pepper,  I  am  delighted  with  your 
pupils'  progress ;  and  what  an  exquisite  voice 
Miss  Chatterton  has  !  " 

And  then  it  was,  "  Oh,  it  must  have  been  so 
hard,  Miss  Pepper,  for  you  to  excuse  Miss 
Anderson  at  the  last  minute ;  and  we  can't 
thank  you  enough  for  letting  us  hear  Miss 
Chatterton  sing." 

"  Oh,  I  shall  fly  crazy  to  hear  them  go  on," 
cried  Alexia  to  a  little  bunch  of  girls  back  of 
the  crowd  ;  "  will  nothing  stop  them  ?  "  wringing 
her  hands  angrily  together.  "  It's  all  Chatter- 
ton,  Chatterton  now ;  and  after  Polly's  magnifi- 
cent playing  too.  Oh  dear  me,  I  knew  it  would 
be  so ! " 

Polly  turned,  with  a  happy  face,  to  pull  Char- 


POLLY'S    RECITAL.  213 

lotte  forward  to  hear  the  kind  things.  "  Why, 
where  "  — 

"Oh,  she's  gone  home,"  answered  Alexia, 
stepping  forward  hastily  —  "  Hasn't  she,  girls  ?  " 
appealing  to  them.  "  She  must  have ;  she  went 
out  like  a  shot.  Don't,  Polly,  how  can  you?" 
she  begged,  turning  back  to  twitch  Polly's  arm, 
"you've  done  enough,  I  should  think." 

"  What  did  she  run  off  for  ?  "  cried  Jasper, 
scaling  the  platform  steps.  Polly  glanced 
quickly  up  into  his  beaming  face. 

"  Oh,  Jasper,  she  has  gone  home  —  I  couldn't 
help  it,"  and  her  face  fell. 

He  looked  annoyed.  "  Never  mind,  Polly," 
he  said,  his  brow  clearing,  "  father  wanted  to 
introduce  her  to  some  friends,  that's  all.  Well, 
and  wasn't  it  a  grand  success,  though !  "  and  he 
beamed  at  her. 

"  Yes,"  said  Polly,  settling  Amy's  music  with 
an  unsteady  hand. 

"  And  Charlotte  really  surprised  us  all,"  he 
went  on  gaily.  "  Why,  Polly,  who  would  think 
that  we  have  —  or  you  rather,  for  you  have  done 
it  all  —  the  honor  to  bring  out  a  nightingale ! 
Here,  let  me  do  that  for  you."  He  was  fairly 


214  POLLY'S  RECITAL. 

bubbling  over  with  delight,  and  as  he  essayed 
to  take  the  music  out  of  Polly's  hand,  he 
laughed  again.  "  Dear  me,  how  stupid  I  am," 
as  a  piece  fluttered  to  the  floor. 

"And  didn't  Amy  do  nicely?"  asked  Polly 
beginning  to  feel  a  bit  tired  now. 

"Yes,  indeed,"  assented  Jasper  enthusiasti- 
cally, as  he  recovered  the  piece.  "  Just  splen- 
didly !  I  didn't  know  she  had  so  much  music 
in  her.  Oh,  here  comes  a  horde  of  congratula- 
tions, Polly."  He  threw  her  the  brightest  of 
smiles  as  he  moved  to  make  way  for  a  group 
of  friends  hurrying  up  to  shower  Polly  with 
compliments,  and  every  one  had  something 
delightful  to  add  of  Charlotte  Chatterton's 
singing. 

"  Jasper  couldn't  help  but  be  happy  over 
Charlotte's  singing,"  said  Polly  to  herself,  and 
looking  after  him,  "  it's  so  beautiful,"  as  they 
came  up. 

"  Where  are  you  going,  Polly  ? "  called 
Alexia  at  last,  when  it  was  all  over,  and  the 
janitor  was  closing  the  big  outer  door,  as  Polly 
ran  ahead  of  the  girls  and  down  the  long  steps 
of  The  Exeter. 


POLLY   TURNED   AND    WAVED    HER   MUSIC-ROLL   AT   THEM. 


POLLY'S  RECITAL.  217 

Polly  turned  and  waved  her  music-roll  at 
them  for  a  reply. 

"Now  somebody  is  going  to  carry  her  off," 
grumbled  Alexia  ;  "  hurry  up,  girls,  let's  see  who 
it  is."  So  they  ran  as  lightly  as  Polly  herself, 
after  her,  down  the  steps,  only  in  time  to  see 
old  Mr.  King  help  her  into  the  carriage  with 
Mrs.  Fisher  and  Phronsie,  and  drive  rapidly  off. 

"  Whatever  in  the  world  is  the  matter  ? " 
cried  Alexia,  running  up  to  Jasper  who  was 
watching  them  speed  away. 

"  Why,  Polly  thinks  Charlotte  is  sick,"  ex- 
plained Jasper,  "  because  she  went  home  before 
the  Recital  was  out." 

"  Stuff  &nd  nonsense  !  "  exclaimed  Alexia 
angrily.  "  What  is  the  matter  with  Polly,  Jas- 
per ?  She  grows  worse  and  worse.  Why  can't 
she  let  Charlotte  Chatterton  alone,  pray  tell. 
I,  for  one,  should  think  mischief  enough  had 
been  done  by  that  girl." 

"  You  should  think  mischief  enough  had  been 
done  by  Charlotte  ?  "  repeated  Jasper  in  aston- 
ishment. "  I  must  say,  Alexia,  that  I  fail  to 
understand  you." 

"  To  hear  people  praise  to  the  very  skies  that 


218  POLLY'S  RECITAL. 

Chatterton  girl,"  cried  Alexia  in  a  passion  —  she 
was  actually  stamping  her  foot  now  —  "  oh,  oh ! 
why  don't  some  of  you  say  something  ? "  she 
cried,  appealing  suddenly  to  the  girls.  "  You 
all  feel  as  I  do  about  Polly's  pushing  forward 
that  girl ;  and  there  you  stand  and  make  me  do 
all  the  talking." 

Jasper  looked  grave  at  once.  "  There  is  no 
occasion  for  any  one  to  exert  herself  to  talk 
over  this,"  he  said.  "  It  is  Polly's  affair,  and 
hers  alone."  He  raised  his  hat  to  her,  and  to 
the  rest  of  the  group,  and  walked  off. 


CHAPTER  X. 

PHRONSIE    HAS    A    PLAN. 

"QHRONSIE    was   the   first  to   reach    Char- 
J_       lotte's  door. 

"  Charlotte  ?  "  she  called  softly  through  the 
keyhole.  There  was  no  answer,  and  after  one 
or  two  ineffectual  "attempts,  Phronsie  turned 
fearfully  away. 

"  I  do  believe  something  is  in  the  room  with 
Charlotte,"  she  said,  as  Polly  came  running  up 
the  stairs.  Then  she  sat  down  on  the  top  step 
and  clasped  her  hands.  "  I  heard  it  raging  up 
and  down." 

"  Oh,  no,  Phronsie,"  said  Polly  reassuringly, 
"  there  couldn't  be  anything  in  there  with 
Charlotte.  I'll  try,"  and  she  laid  a  quick  hand 
on  the  knob.  "  Oh,  Charlotte,  do  open  the 
door  ;  you  are  worrying  us  all  so,"  called  Polly 
imploringly. 

219 


220  PHRONSIE    HAS    A    PLAN. 

Charlotte  flung  wide  the  door.  Two  red 
spots  burned  on  her  cheeks,  and  her  pale  blue 
eyes  snapped.  But  when  she  saw  Polly,  she 
said,  "  I'm  sorry  1  frightened  you,  but  I'm  best 
alone." 

"  Isn't  there  really  anything  in  here  with 
you,  Charlotte?"  asked  Phronsie,  getting  off 
from  her  stair,  to  peer  past  Polly.  "  Oh,  I'm 
sure  I  heard  it  raging  up  and  down." 

"  That  was  I,"  said  Charlotte ;  "  I  was  the 
wild  beast,  Phronsie." 

"  Oh,  dear,"  breathed  Phronsie. 

«  And  oh  !  "  exclaimed  Polly. 

"  Charlotte,"  said  Phronsie,  coming  in  to  slip 
her  hand  into  Charlotte's,  "  it  was  just  beauti- 
ful when  you  sang;  I  thought  it  was  birds  when 
you  went  clear  up  into  the  air.  I  did  really, 
Charlotte." 

"  Oh,  don't ! "  begged  Charlotte,  looking  over 
at  Polly. 

"  Come  down  to  dinner,  Charlotte,"  said 
Polly  quickly.  "  Really  you  must,  else  I  am 
afraid  Grandpapa  will  be  up  here  after  you." 

"  I  don't  want  any  dinner,"  said  Charlotte, 
drawing  back. 


PHRONSIE    HAS    A    PLAN.  221 

"  Indeed,  but  you  must  come  down,"  said 
Polly  firmly,  holding  out  her  hand.  "  Come, 
Charlotte." 

"  Let  me  smooth  your  hair,"  begged  Phronsie, 
standing  on  tiptoe;  udo  bend  down  just  a  very 
little,  please.  There,  that's  it,"  patting  Char- 
lotte's head  with  both  hands  ;  "  now  you  look 
very  nice  ;  you  really  do  —  doesn't  she,  Polly." 

"  Yes,  indeed,"  said  Polly  cheerily,  "  just  as 
fine  as  can  be.  There,  they  are  coming  after 
us,"  as  quick  footsteps  sounded  in  the  hall  be- 
low. "  Hurry,  Charlotte,  do.  We're  coming, 
boys,"  she  called. 

They  had  just  finished  dinner,  when  a  note 
was  handed  Polly.  It  ran  thus: 

"  Do,  dear  Polly,  run  over  to-morrow  morning  early. 
I  want  to  consult  you  in  regard  to  asking  Miss  Chat- 
terton  to  sing  at  my  next  'At  Home.'  I  should  be 
charmed  to  have  her  favor  us. 

FELICIA  A.  CABOT." 

"  The  very  thing  !  "  exclaimed  Jasper,  with 
only  a  thought  for  Polly's  pleasure,  when  Polly 
had  cried,  "  How  nice  of  Mrs.  Cabot ! "  "  Don't 
you  say  so,  father?"  he  added. 

"  Assuredly,"  said  old  Mr.  King  with  great 


222  PHRONS1E    HAS    A    PLAN. 

satisfaction  in  Polly's  pleasure,  and  at  her  suc- 
cess in  drawing  Charlotte  out.  And  then  he 
thought  no  more  about  it,  and  the  bell  ringing 
and  Mr.  Alstyne  coming  in,  he  went  off  into 
the  library  for  a  quiet  chat. 

And  after  this,  there  were  no  more  quiet 
days  for  Charlotte  Chatterton.  Everybody 
who  was  musical,  wanted  to  revel  in  her  voice  ; 
and  everybody  who  wasn't,  wanted  the  same 
thing  because  it  was  so  talked  about.  So  she 
was  asked  to  sing  at  musicales  and  receptions 
without  end,  until  Alexia  exclaimed  at  last, 
"  They  are  all  raving,  stark-mad  over  her,  and 
it's  all  Polly's  own  fault,  the  whole  of  it." 

Phronsie  laid  down  the  note  she  was  writing 
to  Mrs.  Fargo,  a  fortnight  later,  and  said  to 
herself,  "I  would  better  do  it  now,  J  think,"  and 
going  out,  she  went  deliberately  to  old  Mr. 
King's  room,  and  rapped  at  the  door. 

"  Come  in  !  "  called  the  old  gentleman,  "  come 
in  !  Oh,  bless  me,  it's  you,  Phronsie  ! "  in 
pleased  surprise. 

"  Yes,  Grandpapa,"  said  Phronsie,  coming  in 
and  shutting  the  door  carefully,  "I  came  on 
purpose  to  see  you  all  alone." 


PHRONSIE    HAS    A    PLAN.  223 

"So  you  did,  dear,"  said  Mr.  King,  highly 
gratified,  and  pushing  away  his  writing  table, 
he  held  out  his  hand.  "  Now,  then,  Phronsie, 
you  are  never  going  to  be  too  big,  you  know, 
to  sit  on  my  knee,  so  hop  up  now." 

"  Oh,  no,  Grandpapa,"  cried  Phronsie  in  a 
rapture,  "  I  could  never  be  too  big  for  that," 
so  she  perched  up  as  of  old  on  his  knee,  then 
she  folded  her  hands  and  looked  gravely  in  his 
face. 

"  Well,  my  dear,  what  is  it  ?  "  asked  the  old 
gentleman  presently,  "  you've  come  to  tell  me 
something,  I  suppose." 

"  Yes,  Grandpapa,  I  have,"  said  Phronsie  de- 
cidedly, "  and  it  is  most  important  too,  Grand- 
papa, and  oh,  I  do  wish  it  so  much,"  and  she 
clasped  her  hands  tighter  and  sighed. 

"  Well,  then,  Phronsie,  if  you  want  it,  I  sup- 
pose it  must  be,"  said  Mr.  King,  quite  as  a  mat- 
ter of  course.  "  But  first,  child,  tell  me  what 
it  is,"  and  he  stroked  her  yellow  hair. 

"  Grandpapa,"  asked  Phronsie  suddenly, "  how 
much  money  did  Mrs.  Chatterton  say  I  was  to 
have  ?  " 

"  Oh,  bless  me ! "  exclaimed  Mr.  King,  with  a 


224  PHRONSIE    HAS    A    PLAN. 

start.  "  Why,  what  makes  you  ask  such  a 
question  ?  Oh,  she  left  you  everything  she 
had,  Phronsie  ;  a  couple  of  millions  or  so  it  is ; 
why  ?  " 

"  Grandpapa,"  asked  Phronsie,  looking  in- 
tently at  him,  "isn't  Charlotte  very,  very  poor?" 

"  Charlotte  poor  ? "  repeated  the  old  gentle- 
man. "  Why,  no,  not  exactly ;  her  father  isn't 
rich,  but  Charlotte,  I  think,  may  do  very  well, 
especially  as  I  intend  to  keep  her  here  for  a 
while,  and  then  I  shall  never  let  her  suffer, 
Phronsie ;  never,  indeed." 

"  Grandpapa,"  said  Phronsie,  "  wasn't  Mrs. 
Chatterton  aunt  to  Charlotte  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  that  is,  to  Charlotte's  father,"  corrected 
Mr.  King.  "But  what  of  that,  child,  pray? 
What  have  you  got  into  your  head,  Phronsie?" 

"  If  Mrs.  Chatterton  was  aunt  to  Charlotte," 
persisted  Phronsie  slowly,  "  it  seems  as  if  Char- 
lotte ought  to  have  some  of  the  money.  It 
really  does,  Grandpapa." 

"But  Cousin  Eunice  didn't  think  so,  else 
she'd  have  left  it  to  Charlotte,"  said  Mr.  King 
abruptly,  "  and  she  did  choose  to  leave  it  to 
you.  So  there's  an  end  of  it,- Phronsie.  I 


PHRONSIE    HAS    A    PLAN.  225 

didn't  want  you  to  have  it,  but  the  thing  was 
fixed,  and  I  couldn't  help  myself.  And  neither 
can  we  do  anything  now,  but  take  matters  as 
they  are." 

"  I  do  think,"  said  Phronsie,  without  taking 
her  eyes  from  his  face,  "that  maybe  Mrs.  Chat- 
terton  Is  sorry  now,  and  wishes  that  she  had 
left  some  money  to  Charlotte.  Don't  you  sup- 
pose so,  Grandpapa  ?  "  and  one  hand  stole  up 
to  his  neck. 

"  Maybe,"  said  the  old  gentleman,  with  a  short 
laugh,  "  and  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  Cousin  Eu- 
nice was  sorry  over  a  few  other  things  too, 
Phronsie." 

"  Wouldn't  it  make  her  very  glad  if  I  gave 
Charlotte  some  of  the  money  ?  "  Phronsie's  red 
lips  were  very  close  to  his  ear  now,  "  oh,  I 
do  want  to  so  much  ;  you  can't  think,  Grand- 
papa, how  much  !  " 

For  answer,  Mr.  King  set  her  down  hastily 
on  the  floor,  and  took  two  or  three  turns  up 
and  down  the  room.  Phronsie  stood  a  moment 
quite  still  where  he  left  her,  then  she  ran  up  to 
him  and  slipped  her  hand  within  his. 

"  Oh,  I  do  so  wish  I  might,"  she  said,  "  there's 


226  PHRONSIE    HAS    A    PLAN. 

so  much  for  a  little  girl  like  me.  It  would  be 
so  nice  to  have  Charlotte  have  some  with  me." 

Still  no  answer.  So  Phronsie  went  up  and 
down  silently  by  his  side  for  a  few  more  turns. 
Then  she  spoke  again.  "Does  it  make  you 
sorry,  Grandpapa  dear,  to  have  me  want  Char- 
lotte to  have  the  money  with  me  ?  "  she  asked 
timidly. 

"  No,  no,  child,"  answered  Mr.  King  hastily, 
"  and  yet  I  don't  know  what  to  say.  I  don't 
feel  that  it  would  be  right  for  you  to  give  any 
of  your  money  to  her." 

"Right?"  cried  Phronsie,  opening  her  brown 
eyes  very  wide.  "  Why,  isn't  the  money  my 
very  own,  Grandpapa?" 

"  Yes,  yes,  of  course ;  but  you  are  too  young 
to  judge  of  such  things,"  said  the  old  gentle- 
man decidedly,  "as  the  giving  away  of  property 
and  all  that." 

"Oh,  Grandpapa!"  exclaimed  Phronsie,  in 
gentle  reproach,  and  standing  very  tall.  "  Why, 
I  am  thirteen." 

"  And  when  you  get  to  be  ten  years  older, 
you  might  blame  me,"  said  Mr.  King,  "  and  I 
can't  say  but  what  you'd  have  reason  if  I  let 


PHRONS1E    HAS    A    PLAN.  227 

you  do  such  a  thing  as  to  give  away  any 
money  to  Charlotte." 

"Blame  you?  Why,  Grandpapa,  I  couldn't." 
Phronsie  drew  a  long  breath,  then  threw  her- 
self convulsively  into  his  arms,  her  face  work- 
ing hard  in  her  efforts  not  to  cry.  But  it  was 
no  use,  and  Mr.  King  caught  her  in  time  to  see 
the  quick  drops  roll  down  Pbronsie's  cheek  and 
to  feel  them  fall  on  his  hand. 

"  Oh,  dear  me ! "  he  cried  in  great  distress, 
"  there,  there,  child,  you  shall  give  away  the 
whole  if  you  wish;  I've  enough  for  you  without 
it  —  only  don't  cry,  Phronsie.  You  may  do 
anything  you  like,  dear.  There,"  mopping  up 
her  wet  little  face  with  his  handkerchief,  "  now 
that's  a  good  child ;  Phronsie,  you  are  not  going 
to  cry,  of  course  not.  There,  do  smile  a  bit ; 
that's  my  girl  now,"  as  a  faint  light  stole 
into  Phronsie's  eyes.  "  I  didn't  mean  you'd 
really  blame  me,  only  "  — 

"1  couldn't,"  still  said  Phronsie,  and  it  looked 
as  if  the  shower  were  about  to  fall  again. 

"  I  know,  child  ;  you  think  your  old  Grand- 
papa does  just  about  right,"  said  Mr.  King 
soothingly,  and  highly  gratified. 


228  PHRONSIE    HAS    A    PLAN. 

"  He's  ever  and  always  right,"  said  Phronsie, 
still  not  moving. 

"  Bless  you,  child,"  cried  the  old  gentleman, 
much  moved,  "  I  wish  I  could  say  I  believed 
what  you  say.  But  many  things  in  my  life 
might  have  been  bettered." 

"  Oh,  no,  Grandpapa,"  protested  Phronsie  in 
a  tone  of  horror,  "they  couldn't  have  been 
better.  Don't,  Grandpapa,  don't !  "  she  caught 
him  around  the  neck  imploringly. 

u  Well,  1  won't,  child,"  promised  Mr.  King, 
holding  her  close.  "And  now,  Phronsie,  I'll 
tell  you ;  I'll  think  of  all  this  that  you  and  I 
have  talked  over,  and  I'll  let  you  know  by  and 
by  what  you  ought  to  do  about  it,  and  you 
mustn't  say  anything  about  it  to  anybody,  not 
to  a  single  soul,  child.  It  shall  be  just  a  secret 
between  you  and  me." 

"  I  won't,  Grandpapa,"  said  Phronsie  obedi- 
ently, and  patting  his  broad  back  with  her  soft 
hand. 

"  And,  meantime,"  said  Mr.  King,  quite  satis- 
fied, "why,  Charlotte  is  having  pretty  good 
times,  I  think.  Polly  is  looking  out  for  that." 

"  Polly  is  making  her  have  beautiful  times," 


PHRONS1E    HAS    A    PLAN.  229 

said  Phronsie  happily,  "  oh,  very  beautiful  times 
indeed,  Grandpapa." 

"  I  expect  she's  an  awful  nuisance,"  the  old 
gentleman  broke  out  suddenly. 

"  Oh,  Grandpapa  !  "  exclaimed  Phronsie, 
breaking  away  from  him  to  look  into  his  face. 

"  Well,  well,  perhaps  I  shouldn't  say  quite 
that,"  said  Mr.  King,  correcting  himself.  "  But, 
well,  now,  Phronsie,  you  run  back  to  your  play, 
child,  and  I'll  set  to  work  at  once  to  think  out 
this  matter." 

"  I  was  writing  a  note  to  Mrs.  Fargo,"  said 
Phronsie,  putting  up  her  lips  for  a  kiss.  "  You 
are  sure  you  won't  make  your  head  ache  think- 
ing about  it,  Grandpapa?"  she  asked  anxiously. 

"  Sure  as  I  can  be,  Phronsie,"  said  old  Mr. 
King,  smiling.  "  Good-by,  dear." 

"  See  here,  Pickering,"  Mr.  Cabot  threw 
wide  the  door  of  his  private  office  with  a 
nervous  hand.  "  It  is  time  I  had  a  good 
talk  with^you.  Come  in;  I  never  get  one 
nowadays." 

"  Can't  stop,  Uncle,"  said  Pickering  hastily. 
"Besides,  what  would  be  the  use, you  never  see 


230  PHKONSIE    HAS    A    PLAN. 

anything  encouraging  about  me  or  my  career. 
And  I  believe  I  am  going  to  the  dogs." 

"  Indeed  you  are  not,  Pickering,"  cried  Mr. 
Cabot  quickly,  the  color  rising  to  his  cheek. 
"  There,  there,  my  sister's  boy  shall  never  say 
that.  But  come  in,  come  in."  He  laid  hold 
of  Pickering's  arm  and  gently  forced  him  into 
the  little  room. 

Not  to  be  ungracious,  the  young  man  threw 
himself  into  a  chair.  "  Well,  what  is  it,  Uncle  ? 
Do  out  with  it ;  I'm  in  no  mood  for  a  lecture, 
though,  this  morning." 

"  I'm  not  going  to  lecture  you,  my  boy,"  said 
Mr.  Cabot,  closing  the  door,  then  going  to  the 
mantel  to  lean  one  elbow  on  it,  a  favorite  atti- 
tude of  his,  while  he  scanned  his  nephew. 
"  But  something  worse  than  common  has  come 
to  you.  Can  I  help  in  any  way  ?  " 

"  No,  no,  don't  ask  me,"  ejaculated  Picker- 
ing, striking  his  knee  with  one  glove,  and  turn- 
ing apprehensively  in  his  chair.  "  Oh,  hang  it, 
Uncle,  why  can't  you  let  me  alone  ?  " 

"  I've  seen  this  thing,  whatever  it  is,  coming 
upon  you  for  sometime,"  said  Mr.  Cabot,  too 
nervous  to  notice  the  entreaty  in  Pickering's 


PHRONSIE    HAS    A    PLAN. 


231 


voice  and  manner,  "  and  I  cannot  wait  any 
longer  to  find  out  the  trouble.  It's  my  right, 
Pickering ;  you  have  no  father  to  see  to  you, 
and  I've  always  wanted  to  have  the  best  success 


"  I'M    NOT   GOING  TO  LECTURE   YOU." 

be  yours."     He  turned  away  his  head 'now,  a 
break  coming  in  his  voice. 

"  You  have,  Uncle,  you  have,"  assented 
Pickering,  brought  out  a  trifle  from  his  dis- 
tress, "  but  then  I'm  not  equal  to  the  strain  my 


232  PHRONSIE    HAS    A    PLAN. 

relatives  put  upon  me.  Not  worth  it,  either," 
he  added,  relapsing  into  his  gloom.  Then  he 
shoved  his  chair  so  that  he  cpuld  not  look  his 
uncle  in  the  face,  and  bent  a  steady  glance  out 
of  the  window. 

Mr.  Cabot  gave  a  nervous  start  that  carried 
him  away  from  the  mantel  a  step  or  two.  But 
when  he  was  there,  he  felt  so  much  worse,  that 
he  soon  got  back  into  the  old  position. 

"  I  don't  see,  Pickering,"  he  resumed,  "  why 
you  shouldn't  get  along.  You're  through 
college." 

"  Which  is  a  wonder,"  interpolated  Pick- 
ering. 

"  Well,  I  can't  say  but  that  I  was  a  good 
deal  disturbed  at  one  time,"  said  Mr.  Cabot 
frankly  ;  "  but  never  mind  that  now,  you  are 
through,"  and  he  heaved  a  sigh  of  relief,  "  and 
nicely  established  with  Van  Metre  and  Cart- 
wright.  It's  the  best  law  firm  in  the  town, 
Pickering."  Mr.  Cabot  brought  his  elbow  off 
from  the  mantel  enough  to  smite  his  palms  to- 
gether smartly  in  enthusiasm.  "  I  got  you  in 
there." 

"  I  know  you  did,  Uncle,"  said  Pickering ; 


PHRONSIE    HAS    A    PLAN.  233 

"  you've  done  everything  that's  good.  Only 
I  repeat  I'm  not  worth  it,"  and  he  drummed 
on  the  chair-arm.  . 

"  For  Heaven's  sake,  Pickering  !  "  cried  his 
uncle,  darting  in  front  of  the  chair  and  its 
restless  occupant,  "  don't  say  that  again.  It's 
enough  to  make  a  man  go  to  the  bad,  to  lose 
hope.  What  have  you  been  doing  lately  ?  Do 
you  gamble  ?  " 

"  What  do  you  take  me  for  ?  "  demanded 
Pickering,  starting  to  his  feet  with  flashing 
eyes,  and  throwing  open  his  top-coat  as  if  the 
weight  oppressed  him.  "  I've  been  a  lazy  dog 
all  my  life,  and  a  good-for-naught ;  but  I  hope 
I've  not  sunk  to  that." 

"  Oh,  nothing,  nothing  —  I'm  sure  I  didn't 
mean,"  cried  Mr.  Cabot,  starting  back  suddenly 
in  astonishment.  "  Dear  me,  Pickering,"  tak- 
ing off  his  eyeglasses  to  blow  his  nose,  "  you 
needn't  pick  me  up  so  violently.  I've  been 
much  worried  about  you,"  settling  his  glasses 
again  for  another  look  at  his  nephew.  "  And 
I  can't  tolerate  any  thoughts  I  cannot  speak." 

"  I  should  think  not,"  retorted  Pickering 
shortly ;  "  the  trouble  is  in  having  the  thoughts." 


234  PHRONSIE    HAS    A    PLAN. 

"  And  I  am  very  much  relieved  to  find  that 
my  fears  are  groundless  —  that  you've  been 
about  nothing  that  my  sister  or  I  should  be 
ashamed  of,"  and  he  picked  up  courage  to  step 
forward  gingerly  and  pat  the  young  man  on 
the  shoulder.  "You  are  in  trouble,  though, 
and  I  insist  on  knowing  what  it  is." 

Pickering  dropped  suddenly  beneath  his 
uncle's  hand,  into  the  nearest  chair. 


CHAPTER    XI. 

THINGS    ARE    GETTING    MIXED. 

((  TTOW  can  you  ask  me,  Uncle?"  cried 
-LJL  Pickering  passionately. 

"Because  I  will  know."  Mr.  Cabot  was 
quite  determined. 

"  Well,  then,  if  you  must  have  it,  it's  —  it's 
Polly  Pepper."  Pickering  could  get  no  further. 

"  It's  Polly  Pepper ! "  ejaculated  Mr.  Cabot. 
Then  a  light  broke  over  his  face,  and  he  laughed 
aloud,  he  was  so  pleased.  "  You  mean,  you  are 
in  love  with  Polly  Pepper?" 

"As  if  everybody  didn't  know  it?"  cried 
Pickering  hotly.  «  Don't  pretend,  Uncle,  that 
you  are  surprised;"  he  was  really  disrespectful 
now  in  manner.  "  Oh,  beg  pardon,  sir,"  recov- 
ering himself. 

"  Never  mind,"  said  Mr.  Cabot  indulgently, 
"you  are  over- wrought  this  morning.  Mv 
235 


236     .        THINGS    ARE    GETTING    MIXED. 

boy,"  and  he  came  over  and  clapped  his  nephew 
on  the  back  approvingly,  "  that's  the  best  thing 
you  ever  told  me ;  you  make  me  very  happy, 
and"  — 

"  Hold,  Uncle,"  cried  Pickering,  darting  away 
from  the  hand,  "  don't  go  so  fast.  You  are 
taking  too  much  for  granted." 

Mr.  Cabot  for  answer,  bestowed  another  rap, 
this  time  on  Pickering's  arm,  indulging  all  the 
while  in  the  broadest  of  smiles. 

Just  then  some  one  knocked  at  the  door,  and  in 
response  to  Mr.  Cabot's  unwilling  "Come  in," 
Ben's  head  appeared.  "  Beg  pardon,  Mr.  Cabot, 
but  Mr.  Van  Metre  wants  you  out  here." 

Pickering  lunged  past  Ben.  "Don't  stop 
me,"  he  cried  crossly,  in  response  to  Ben's 
«  Well,  old  fellow." 

Ben  stared  after  him  with  puzzled  eyes  as  he 
shot  down  the  long  store ;  and  all  that  after- 
noon he  could  not  get  Pickering  and  his  strange 
ways  out  of  his  mind,  and  on  the  edge  of  the 
twilight,  jumping  out  of  his  car  at  the  corner 
nearest  home,  he  "buttoned  up  his  coat  and 
rushed  on,  regardless  that  Billy  Harlowe  was 
making  frantic  endeavors  to  overtake  him. 


THINGS    AKE    GETTING    MIXED. 


237 


"  What's  got  into  the  old  chap,"  said  Ben  to 
himself,  pushing  on  doggedly  with  the  air  of  a 
man  who  has  thoughts  of  his  own  to  think  out. 


"DON'T  STOP  ME,"  CRIED  PICKERING  CROSSLY. 

"  I  declare,  if  I  should  know  Pickering  Dodge 
lately;  I  can't  tell  where  to  find  him." 

And  with  no  light  on  his  puzzle,  Ben  turned 
into  the  stone  gateway,  and  strode   up  to  the 


238  THINGS    ABE    GETTING    MIXED. 

east  porch  to  let  himself  in  as  usual,  with 
his  latch  key.  As  he  was  fitting  it  absently,  all 
the  while  his  mind  more  intent  on  Pickering 
and  his  changed  demeanor  than  on  his  own 
affairs,  he  heard  a  little  rustling  noise  that 
made  him  turn  his  head  to  see  a  tall  figure 
spring  down  the  veranda  floor  in  haste  to 
gain  the  quickest  angle. 

"  Charlotte,  why,  what  are  you  doing  out 
here?"  exclaimed  Ben,  leaving  his  key  in  the 
lock  to  look  at  her. 

"  Don't  speak ! "  begged  Charlotte  hastily,  and 
coming  up  to  him.  "  Somebody  will  hear  you. 
I  came  out  here  to  walk  up  and  down  —  I 
shall  die  in  that  house ;  and  I  am  going  home 
to-morrow."  She  nervously  twisted  her  hand- 
kerchief around  her  fingers,  and  Ben  still  look- 
ing at  her  closely,  saw  that  she  had  been 
crying. 

"  Charlotte,  what  are  you  talking  about?  "  he 
cried,  opening  his  honest  blue  eyes  wide  at  her. 
"  Why,  I  thought  you  had  ever  so  much  sense, 
and  that  you  were  way  ahead  of  other  girls, 
except  Polly,"  he  added,  quite  as  a  matter  of 
course. 


THINGS    ARE    GETTIXG    MIXED.  °239 

"  Don't ! "  cried  Charlotte,  wincing,  and,  "  but 
I  shall  go  home  to-morrow." 

"Look  here,"  Ben  took  out  his  key  and 
tucked  it  into  his  pocket,  then  faced  Charlotte, 
"take  a  turn  up  and  down,  Charlotte;  you'll 
pull  out  of  your  bad  fit;  you're  homesick." 
Ben's  honest  face  glowed  with  pity  as  he  looked 
at  her. 

"  I'm  —  I'm  everything,"  said  Charlotte  des- 
perately. "  O,  Ben,  you  can't  think,"  she  seized 
his  arm,  "  Polly  is  just  having  a  dreadful  time 
because  I'm  here." 

"  See  here,  now,"  said  Ben,  taking  the  hand 
on  his  arm  in  a  strong  grip,  as  if  it  were  Polly's, 
"  don't  you  go  to  getting  such  an  idea  into  your 
head,  Charlotte." 

"  I  can't  help  it,"  said  Charlotte ;  "  it  was  put 
there,"  she  added  bitterly. 

Ben  gave  a  start  of  surprise.  "  Well,  you 
are  not  the  sort  of  girl  to  believe  such  stuff, 
any  way,"  he  said. 

Charlotte  pulkd  away  her  hand.  "  I'm  going 
home,"  she  declared  flatly. 

"  Indeed  you  are  not,"  said  Ben,  quite  as 
decidedly. 


240  THINGS    ARE    GETTING    MIXED. 

"  O,  yes,  I  am." 

"  We'll  see ; "  he  nodded  at  her.  "  Take  my 
advice,  Charlotte,  and  don't  make  a  muff  of 
yourself. 

"  It's  very  easy  for  you  to  talk,"  cried  Char- 
lotte, a  little  pink  spot  of  anger  rising  on  either 
cheek,  "  you  have  everybody  to  love  you,  and 
to  be  glad  you  are  here ;  very  easy,  indeed ! " 

With  that,  she  walked  off,  swinging  her 
gown  disdainfully  after  her. 

"  Whew!  "  ejaculated  Ben,  "  well,  I  must  say 
I'm  surprised  at  you,  Charlotte.  I  didn't  sup- 
pose you  could  be  jealous." 

"Jealous?"  Charlotte  flamed  around  at 
him.  "  O,  Ben  Pepper,  what  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  You  are  just  as  jealous  as  you  can  be,"  said 
Ben  honestly,  "  absolutely  green." 

"  I'd  have  you  to  know  I  never  was  jealous 
in  my  life,"  said  Charlotte,  quite  pale  now,  and 
standing  very  still. 

"  You  don't  know  it,  but  you  are,"  said  Ben 
imperturbably ;  "  when  people  begin  to  talk 
about  other  folks  being  loved  and  happy  and 
all  that,  they're  always  jealous.  Why  in  the 
world  don't  you  think  how  everybody  is  loving 


THINGS    ARE    GETTING    MIXED.  243 

you  and  wanting  to  make  you  happy  ? "  It 
was  quite  a  long  speech  for  Ben,  and  he  was 
overcome  with  astonishment  at  himself  for 
having  made  it. 

"  Because  they  are  not,"  said  Charlotte  bit- 
terly, "  at  least,  they  can't  love  me,  if  they  do 
try  to  make  me  happy." 

"  Stuff  and  nonsense  !  "  exclaimed  Ben. 

"And  Polly" — then  Charlotte  pulled  her- 
self up. 

"Well,  what  about  Polly?"  demanded  Ben. 

"  Oh,  nothing."  Charlotte  twisted  uneasily, 
and  shut  her  lips  tightly  together. 

"  If  you  think  rny  sister  Polly  doesn't  love  you 
and  want  to  make  you  happy,  there's  no  use  in 
my  talking  to  you,"  said  Ben,  in  a  displeased 
way. 

"I  didn't  say  so,"  cried  Charlotte  quickly. 
«  Oh,  don't  go.  You  are  the  only  one  who  can 
help  me,"  as  he  made  a  movement  toward  the 
door.  "I  never  told  anybody  else,  and  they 
don't  guess." 

"  And  it's  a  pity  that  they  should  now,"  said 
Ben.  "  I  tell  you,  Charlotte,  if  you  never  say 
anything  like  this  again,  I'll  believe  that  you're 


THINGS    ARE    GETTING    MIXED. 

the  girl  I  thought  you,  with  plenty  of  sense,  and 
all  that.  There,  give  us  your  hand.  Hurry  up, 
now  ;  here  comes  Phronsie." 

Charlotte  slowly  laid  her  hand  in  Ben's  big 
palm,  as  Phronsie  opened  the  oaken  door,  and 
peered  out  into  the  darkness. 

"  I  can't  think  what  makes  Ben  so  late,"  she 
said  softly  to  herself. 

"  I'm  going  into  the  other  door,"  said  Char- 
lotte, springing  off  down  the  veranda. 

"  Halloo,  Pet !  "  Ben  rushed  into  the  hall, 
and  seized  Phronsie  for  a  good  hug. 

"  O,  Ben,  you're  so  late  !  "  cried  Phronsie. 

"  Well,  I'm  here  now,"  said  Ben  comfortably. 

"  You  can't  think  what  has  happened."  said 
Phronsie,  with  a  delightful  air  of  mystery. 

"  To  be  sure  I  can't ;  but  you  are  going  to 
tell  me,"  declared  Ben  with  assurance. 

"  O,  Bensie,  I'd  so  much  rather  you  would 
guess,"  said  Phronsie,  clasping  her  hands. 

"  Well,  then,  you  have  a  new  cat,"  said  Ben 
at  a  hazard,  while  he  disposed  of  his  coat  and  hat. 

"  O,  Ben,"  cried  Phronsie  in  reproach,  "  why, 
I've  given  up  having  new  cats ;  indeed  I  have." 

"  Since  when  ?  "  asked  Ben. 


THINGS    ABE    GETTING    MIXED.  245 

"  Why,  last  week.  I  really  have.  I'm  not 
going  to  get  any  more,"  said  Phronsie. 

Ben  shouted.  At  the  sound  of  his  voice, 
somebody  called  over  the  stairs,  "  O,  Ben,  are 
you  home  ?  Come  up  here." 

"  Come  on,  Pet,"  cried  Ben,  "  we're  wanted," 
seizing  Phronsie,  and  hurrying  off  to  the  stairs. 

"  I  did  so  want  to  tell  you  myself,"  mourned 
Phronsie  on  the  way. 

"  Then  you  shall."  Ben  set  her  on  the  floor 
suddenly.  "  I'll  come  up  in  a  minute  or  so," 
he  called. .  "  There  now,  Phronsie,  we'll  have 
the  wonderful  news.  Out  with  it,  child." 

"  I  don't  suppose  you  ever  could  guess,"  said 
Phronsie,  pausing  a  moment,  "  I  really  don't, 
Ben,  because  this  is  something  you  never  would 
think  of." 

"  No,  I'm  quite  sure  I  should  never  guess  in 
all  the  world,"  said  Ben  decidedly,  "  so  let  us 
have  it." 

"  Grandpapa  has  promised  to  give  us  a  sur- 
prise party,"  announced  Phronsie,  with  careful 
scrutiny  to  see  the  effect  of  her  news. 

"  A  surprise  party  ?  Goodness  me  1 "  ex- 
ploded Ben,  "  what  do  you  mean,  Phronsie  ?  " 


246  THINGS    ABE    GETTING    MIXED. 

"  A  surprise  party  to  go  and  see  Jasper ;  and 
we  are  to  start  to-morrow.  Now,  Ben  !  "  and 
Phronsie,  her  news  all  out,  beamed  up  into  his 
face. 

"  Oh,  so  it's  Jasper's  surprise  party,"  cried 
Ben. 

"  Yes,  and  it's  ours  too ;  because  you  see  we 
didn't  any  of  us  think  Grandpapa  was  going  to 
do  it,"  said  Phronsie. 

"  Well,  it's  my  surprise  party,  too,"  said  Ben 
lugubriously,  "  for  I'm  astonished;  and  beside 
I'm  left  out  in  the  cold." 

"  O,  Ben,  can't  you  go  ?  "  cried  Phronsie,  her 
face  falling  instantly. 

"  Xo,  Pet ;  wait  till  you  get  to  be  a  business 
man  and  you'll  see  that  surprise  parties  can't 
be  indulged  in  very  often." 

"Won't  Mr.  Cabot  let  you  go?"  asked 
Phronsie,  with  an  anxious  droop  of  the  head. 
"  O,  I  think  he  will ;  truly  I  do." 

"I  sha'n't  ask  him, '  said  Ben  ;  "  I'm  sure  of 
that." 

"But  Grandpapa  will,"  said  Phronsie,  her 
face  changing. 

"No,  no,   Pet;    you   mustn't   say  anything 


THINGS    ARE    GETTING    MIXED.  247 

about  that.  I'd  rather  stick  to  the  business. 
There,  come  on  ;  they're  wild,  I  suppose,  up- 
stairs, to  tell  the  news." 

Just  then  some  one  called  Phronsie.  "  Oh, 
dear,"  she  sighed  involuntarily,  as  Ben  sped 
over  the  stairs  without  her. 

"  I  thought  you  were  never  coming  home, 
Ben,"  said  Polly,  meeting  him  in  the  upper 
hall.  "  Oh,  we've  such  a  fine  thing  to  tell  you ! " 

"  I'm  going  to  guess,"  said  Ben  wisely. 

"  Oh,  you  never  can,"  declared  Polly ;  "never 
in  all  this  world.  Don't  try." 

"  Can't  I,  though  ?  Give  me  a  chance.  You 
are  to  have  a  surprise  party,  and  go  to  see  Jas- 
per. There ! " 

"  How  did  you  guess  ?  "  cried  Polly  in  wide- 
eyed  astonishment. 

Ben  burst  into  a  hearty  laugh.  "  Well,  I 
met  Phronsie,  if  you  must  know." 

"  Of  course,"  laughed  Polly;  "  how  stupid  in 
me  !  Well,  was  ever  anything  so  fine  in  all 
this  world?"  and  she  danced  down  the  hall, 
and  came  back  flushed  and  panting. 

"And  Grandpapa  has  written  to  tell  Mr. 
Cabot  how  it  is,  and  to  ask  for  a  day  or  two 


248  THINGS    ARE    GETTING    MIXED. 

off  for  you,"  she  said,  with  a  little  pat  on  his 
back. 

"  O,  Polly ! "  exclaimed  Ben,  in  dismay, 
"Grandpapa  shouldn't  —  I  mean,  I  ought  not 
to  go.  I'd  really  rather  not." 

"  Well,  Grandpapa  says  that  you  are  working 
too  hard,  Bensie,  and  it's  quite  true,"  Polly  gave 
him  another  pat,  this  time  a  motherly  one ;  "  and 
so  you  are  going." 

But  Ben  shook  his  head. 

"And  we  start  to-morrow,"  ran  on  Polly, 
"and  Jasper  doesn't  know  a  word  about  our 
coming ;  and  we  are  going  to  stay  at  the  hotel 
two  or  three  days."  And  here  Phronsie  ran 
eagerly  up  the  stairs. 

"  And  it's  going  to  be  lovely,  and  not  rain 
any  of  the  time ;  and  we  are  to  take  Jasper  a 
box  full  of  everything,"  she  announced  in  great 
excitement.  "  We  Jaegan  to  pack  it  the  very 
minute  that  Grandpapa  told  us  we  were  to  go." 

"That's  fine!  Well,  I'll  drop  something 
into  that  box,"  said  Ben. 

"  Of  course,"  said  Polly,  in  great  satisfaction. 

"  And  Jasper  wouldn't  like  it  not  to  have 
something  of  Ben's  in  it,"  said  Phronsie. 


THINGS    AHE    GETTING    MIXED.  249 

"  Well,  now,  Bensie,  run  down  after  dinner 
and  ask  Pickering  Dodge  to  go.  That's  a  good 
boy."  Polly  patted  the  broad  back  coaxingly 
this  time. 

Ben's  face  fell.  "How  do  you  know*that 
Grandpapa  would  like  to  have  him  along  ?  "  he 
asked  abruptly. 

"  As  if  I'd  ask  you  to  invite  him,"  cried  Polly, 
"  unless  Grandpapa  had  said  he  could  go.  The 
very  idea,  Ben  ! " 

"  Well,  something  is  the  matter  with  Pick," 
confessed  Ben  unwillingly,  "  and  I  don't  want 
to  ask  him." 

"  Something  the  matter  with  Pickering  ?  "  re- 
peated Polly  in  dismay.  "  O,  Ben,  is  he  sick  ?  " 

"  No,"  said,  Ben  bluntly,  "  but  he's  cross." 

"  O,  Ben,  then  something  very  bad  must  have 
happened,"  said  Polly,  "  for  Pickering  is  almost 
never  cross." 

"  Well,  I  don't  know  what  to  make  of  him," 
said  Ben ;  "  he's  been  queer  for  a  week  now, 
more  or  less,  and  to-day  he  wouldn't  speak  to 
me  ;  just  shot  off  telling  me  to  let  him  alone; " 
and  Ben  rapidly  laid  before  Polly  the  little 
scene  of  the  morning  in  the  store. 


250  THINGS    ARE    GETTING    MIXED. 

"  Now,  Ben,"  said  Polly,  when  it  was  all  over, 
"  I  know  really  that  something  dreadful  is  the 
matter  with  Pickering,  and  I  shall  send  him  a 
note  to  come  here  to-night.  He  must  tell  us 
what  it  is.  I'm  going  to  write  it  now."  And 
Polly  sped  off  to  her  room,  followed  by 
Phronsie. 

Ben  went  slowly  down  the  hall  to  get  ready 
for  dinner.  "  I  don't  know  how  it  is,"  he  said, 
"  but  everything  seems  to  be  getting  mixed  up 
in  this  house,  and  all  our  good,  quiet  times 
gone.  And  now  what  can  Charlotte  have 
heard  to  make  her  want  to  go  home  ?  " 

And  all  the  time  during  dinner,  Ben  kept  up 
a  steady  thinking,  until  Polly,  looking  across 
the  table,  caught  his  eye. 

"  Don't  worry,"  her  smile  said,  "  I've  sent  a 
note  to  Pickering,  and  we'll  find  out  what  the 
trouble  is." 

Ben  sat  straight  in  his  chair,  and  nodded 
back  at  her.  "I  can't  tell  her  now  that  Pick 
is  not  what  I'm  stewing  over,"  he  said  to  him- 
self, "  and  I  can't  tell  her  any  time,  either,  for 
Charlotte  has  heard  something  that  makes  her 
think  Polly  is  bothered  by  her  being  here.  I 


THINGS    ARE    GETTING    MIXED.  251 

must  just  fuss  at  it  myself  till  I  straighten  it 
out." 

So  when  Pickering  Dodge,  with  a  radiant 
face  at  being  sent  for  by  Polly's  own  hand,  ran 
lightly  up  the  steps  of  the  King  mansion,  about 
an  hour  later,  Ben  hurried  off  to  find  Charlotte 
Chatterton. 

"  I  can't  come  down,"  called  Charlotte  from 
the  upper  hall,  "  I'm  tired  ;  good-night." 

"  So  am  I  tired,"  declared  Ben,  "  but  I'm 
going  to  talk  to  you,  Charlotte,"  he  added, 
decidedly. 

"  No ;  I  don't  want  to  talk,"  said  Charlotte, 
shaking  her  head.  "Good-night.  Thank  you, 
Ben,"  she  added  a  bit  pleasanter,  "  but  I'm  not 
going  down." 

"  Indeed  you  are !  "  said  Ben  obstinately. 
"  I'm  not  going  to  stir  from  this  spot,"  he 
struck  his  hand  on  the  stair  railing,  "  until  you 
are  down  here.  Come,  Charlotte." 

"  No,"  began  Charlotte,  but  the  next  moment 
she  was  on  the  stairs,  saying  as  she  went  slowly 
down,  "  I  don't  want  to  talk,  Ben.  There  isn't 
anything  to  say." 

"  Now  that's  something  like,"  observed  Ben 


252  THINGS    ARE    GETTING    MIXED. 

cheerfully,  as  she  reached  his  side.  "  Come  in 
here,  do,  Charlotte,"  leading  ,  the  way  into 
Mother  Fisher's  little  sewing-room. 

"  But  I'm  not  going  to  talk,"  reiterated  Char- 
lotte, following  him  in. 

"  You  are  going  to  talk  enough  so  that  I  can 
know  how  to  get  this  ridiculous  idea  out  of 
your  head,"  said  Ben,  as  he  closed  the  door  on 
them  both. 

Mr.  Cabot  hurried  into  his  wife's  room,  his 
face  lighted  with  great  satisfaction.  "  Well, 
Felicia,"  he  said,  "I  believe  I  needn't  worry 
about  that  boy  any  more." 

"  Who,  Pickering  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Cabot,  with 
a  last  little  touch  to  the  lace  at  her  throat. 

"  Of  course  Pickering.  Well,  he's  in  better 
hands  than  mine.  Oh,  I'm  so  glad  to  be  rid  of 
him ; "  and  he  threw  himself  into  an  easy  chair 
and  beamed  at  her. 

"  What  in  the  world  do  you  mea»,  Mr. 
Cabot  ?  "  demanded  his  wife.  "  You  haven't 
had  another  fuss  with  Pickering?  Oh,  I'm 
quite  sure  he'll  do  well  in  the  Law,  if  you'll 
only  have  patience  a  little  longer." 


THINGS    ARE    GETTING    MIXED.  253 

"  Nonsense,  Felicia,"  said  Mr.  Cabot,  "  as  if 
I'd  get  him  out  of  that  office,  when  it  was  such 
a  piece  of  work  to  fasten  him  in  there.  Well, 
to  make  a  long  story  short,  he  loves  Polly 
Pepper.  Think  of  that,  Felicia!"  And  Mr. 
Cabot,  in  his  joy,  got  out  of  the  chair  and  be- 
gan to  rush  up  and  down  the  room,  rubbing  his 
hands  together  in  glee. 

"  O,  Mr.  Cabot  —  Mr.  Cabot,"  cried  his  wife, 
flying  after  him,  "  you  don't  mean  to  say  that 
Pickering  and  Polly  are  betrothed  ?  Was 
ever  anything  so  lovely !  Oh !  never  mind 
about  dinner;  I  couldn't  eat  a  mouthful.  I 
must  go  right  around  there,  and  get  my  arms 
around  that  dear  girl.  Tell  Biggs  to  put  the 
horses  in  at  once." 

"  Stop  just  one  moment,  Felicia,  for  Heaven's 
sake !  "  cried  Mr.  Cabot,  putting  himself  in 
front  of  her  ;  "  that's  just  like  a  woman ;  only 
hear  the  first  word,  and  off  she  goes ! " 

"  Do  order  the  carriage,"  begged  Mrs.  Cabot, 
with  dancing  eyes.  "  I  can't  wait  an  instant, 
but  I  must  tell  Polly  how  glad  we  are.  And 
of  course  you'll  come  too,  Mr.  Cabot.  Oh, 
dear,  it's  such  blessed  news  !  " 


254  THINGS    ARE    GETTING    MIXED. 

"  I  didn't  say  they  were  engaged,"  began  Mr. 
Cabot  frantically,  "I  —  I  "  - 

"  Didn't  say  that  Polly  and  Pickering  were 
engaged  ?  "  repeated  Mrs.  Cabot.  "  Well,  what 
did  you  say,  Mr.  Cabot  ?  " 

"  I  said  he  loved  her,"  said  Mr.  Cabot.  "  (), 
Felicia,  it's  the  making  of  the  boy,"  he  added 
jubilantly. 

Mrs.  Cabot  sank  into  her  husband's  deserted 
chair,  unable  to  find  a  word. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

POLLY    TRIES    TO    DO    WHAT    IS    RIGH^T. 

U  f\  PICKERING!"  Polly  actually  ran 
V/«  into  the  drawing-room  with  out- 
stretched hands.  "  Why  did  Jencks  put  you 
in  here  ?  " 

"  I  asked  to  come  in  here,"  said  Pickering. 
"  I  don't  want  to  see  a  lot  of  people  to-night ; 
I  only  want  you,  Polly." 

"  But  Mamsie  could  help  you  —  she'd  know 
the  right  thing  to  say  to  you,"  said  Polly. 

"  No,  no ! "  cried  Pickering  in  alarm,  and 
edging  off  into  a  corner.  "  Do  sit  down,  Polly, 
I  —  I  want  to  talk  to  you." 

So  Polly  sat  down,  her  eyes  fastened  on  his 
face,  and  wishing  all  the  while  that  Mamsie 
would  come  in. 

"•  I  don't  wonder  you  think  I'm  in  a  bad 
way,"  began  Pickering  nervously ;  "  it  was 
255 


256         POLLY    TRIES    TO    DO    WHAT    IS    RIGHT. 

awfully  good  in  you  to  send  for  me,  Polly, 
awfully." 

"  Why,  I  couldn't  help  it,"  said  Polly.  «  You 
know  it's  just  like  having  one  of  the  boys  in 
trouble,  to  have  you  worried,  Pickering." 

"  Yes,  yes,"  said  Pickering,  "  I  know." 

"  Well,  I  want  to  tell  you  something,"  began 
Polly  radiantly,  thinking  it  better  to  cheer  him 
up  a  bit  with  her  news  before  getting  at  the 
root  of  his  trouble.  "  Do  you  know  that 
Grandpapa  is  going  to  take  us  all  to-morrow  to 
see  Jasper  ?  It's  to  be  a  surprise  party." 

"  Ah,"  said  Pickering,  all  his  gladness  gone. 

"  Yes ;  and  Grandpapa  wants  you  to  go  with 
us,  Pickering,"  Polly  went  on. 

"  Oh,  dear  me  —  I  can't  —  can't  possibly  !  " 
exclaimed  Pickering,  in  a  tone  of  horror.  "  Don't 
ask  me,  Polly.  Anything  but  that." 

"  O,  yes,  you  can,"  laughed  Polly,  determined 
to  get  him  out  of  his  strange  mood.  "Why, 
Pickering,  we  don't  want  to  go  without  you. 
It  would  spoil  all  our  fun." 

"  Well,  I  can't  go,"  cried  Pickering,  in  an 
agony  at  being  misunderstood.  "  I'd  do  any- 
thing in  the  world  you  ask,  Polly,  but  that." 


POLLY    TRIES    TO    DO    WHAT   IS    BIGHT.       257 

"  Why  not,  you  ridiculous  boy?  "  asked  Polly, 
quite  as  if  it  were  Joel  who  was  before  her. 

"  Because  Jasper  and  I  don't  speak  to  each 
other,"  Pickering  bolted  out ;  "  we  had  a  fight." 


"WHAT  DO  YOU  SAY?"  CRIED  POLLY. 

Polly  sprang  to  her  feet.  "What  do  you 
say  ?  "  she  cried. 

"It's  beastly,  I  know,"  declared  Pickering, 
his  face  aflame,  "  but,  Polly,  if  you  knew  —  I 
really  couldn't  help  it ;  Jasper  was  " 


258       POLLY    TRIES    TO    DO    WHAT    IS    RIGHT. 

"  Don't  tell  me  that  it  was  any  of  Jasper's 
doings,"  cried  Polly  vehemently,  clasping  her 
hands  tightly  together,  so  afraid  she  might  say 
something  to  make  the  matter  worse.  "  I 
know,  Pickering,  it  was  quite  your  own  fault  if 
you  won't  speak." 

"  O,  Polly  ! "  exclaimed  Pickering,  the  hot 
blood  all  over  his  face,  "  don't  say  that ;  please 
don't." 

"  I  must ;  because  I  know  it  is  the  truth," 
said  Polly  uncompromisingly. .  "  If  it  isn't,  why, 
then  come  with  us  to-morrow,  Pickering,"  and 
her  brow  cleared. 

"  I  can't,  Polly,  I  can't  possibly,"  cried  Pick- 
ering in  distress ;  "  ask  me  anything  but  that, 
and  I'll  do  it." 

"  This  is  the  only  thing  that  you  ought  to 
do,"  said  Polly  coldly.  "  O,  Pickering,  suppose 
that  anything  should  happen  so -that  you  never 
could  speak  !  "  she  added  reproachfully. 

"  I'm  sure  I  don't  want  to  speak  to  a  man 
when  I've  broken  friendship  with  him,"  said 
Pickering  sullenly.  "  What  is  there  to  talk 
about,  I'd  like  to  know  ?  " 

"If  you've  broken   friendship  with   Jasper, 


POLLY    TRIES    TO    DO    WHAT    IS    BIGHT.       259 

I'm  quite,  quite  sure  it  is  your  own  fault,"  hotly 
declared  Polly  again;  "Jasper  never  turned 
away  from  a  friend  in  his  life."  And  Polly 
broke  off  suddenly  and  walked  down  the  long 
room,  aghast  to  find  how  angry  she  was  at  each 
step. 

"  Don't  you  turn  away  from  me,  Polly," 
begged  Pickering  in  such  a  piteous  tone  that 
Polly  felt  little  twinges  of  remorse,  and  in  a 
minute  she  was  by  his  side  again. 

"  I  didn't  mean  to  be  cross,"  she  said  quickly, 
"  but  you  mustn't  say  such  things,  Pickering." 

"  I  must  tell  you  the  truth,"  said  Pickering 
doggedly,  "  and  that  is  that  I've  broken  friend- 
ship with  Jasper,  and  I  can't  speak  to  him." 

"  Pickering,"  said  Polly,  whirling  abruptly  to 
get  a  good  look  at  his  face,  "  you  must  speak 
to  Jasper,"  and  she  drew  a  long  breath. 

"  I  tell  you  I  can't,"  said  Pickering,  his  face 
paling  with  the  effort  to  control  himself. 

"  Then,"  said  Polly,  very  deliberately,  yet 
with  a  glow  of  determination,  "  you  can't  speak 
to  me ;  so  good-night,  Pickering,"  and  she  ran 
out  of  the  room. 

Pickering  stared   after  her  a  moment  in  a 


260     POLLY  TRIES  TO  DO  WHAT  is  EIGHT. 

dazed  way,  then  picked  up  his  hat,  and  darted 
out  of  the  house,  shutting  the  door  hard  behind 
him. 

Polly,  hurrying  over  the  stairs  to  her  own 
room,  kept  saying  to  herself  over  and  over, 
"  Oh !  how  could  I  have  said  that  —  how  could 
I  ?  when  I  want  to  help  him  —  and  now  I  have 
made  everything  worse." 

"  Polly,"  called  Mrs.  Fisher,  as  Polly  sped  by 
her  door,  "  you  are  going  to  take  the  noon  train, 
you  know,  to-morrow,  Mr.  King  says;  so  you 
can  pack  in  the  morning  easily." 

"  I'm  not  going,  Mamsie  ;  that  is  —  I  hope 
we  are  not  any  of  us  going,"  said  Polly  inco- 
herently, as  she  tried  to  hurry  by. 

"  Not  going !  Polly,  child,  what  do  you 
mean  ?  "  cried  Mrs.  Fisher  aghast. 

"O,  Mamsie,  don't  ask  me,"  begged  Polly, 
having  hard  work  to  keep  the  tears  back.  "  Do 
forgive  me,  but  need  I  tell  ?  "  and  Polly  stopped 
and  clung  to  the  knob  of  the  door. 

"  No,  Polly,  if  you  cannot  tell  mother  your 
trouble  willingly,  I  will  not  ask  it,  child."  And 
Mrs.  Fisher  turned  off,  and  began  to  busy  her- 
self over  her  work. 


POLLY    TKIES    TO    DO    WHAT    IS    RIGHT.       261 

Polly,  quite  broken  down  by  this,  deserted 
her  door-knob,  and  rushed  into  the  bedroom. 

"  O,  Mamsie,  it's  about  —  about  other  people, 
and  I  didn't  know  as  I  ought  to  tell.  Need 
I  ?  "  cried  Polly  imploringly,  seizing  her  moth- 
er's gown  just  as  Phronsie  would. 

"  No  more  had  you  a  right  to  tell,  Polly," 
said  her  mother,  "  if  that  is  the  case,"  and  she 
turned  a  cheerful  face  toward  her ;  "  I  can  trust 
my  girl,  that  she  won't  keep  anything  that  is 
her  own,  away  from  me.  There,  there  ; "  and 
she  smoothed  Polly's  brown  hair  with  her  hand. 
"  How  I  used  to  be  always  telling  you  to  brush 
your  hair,  and  now  how  nice  it  looks,  Polly," 
she  added  approvingly. 

"  It's  the  same  fly-away  hair  now,"  said 
Polly,  throwing  back  her  rebellious  locks  with 
an  impatient  toss  of  the  head.  "  Oh !  how  I 
do  wish  I  had  smooth  hair  like  Charlotte's." 

"  Fly-away  hair,  when  it's  taken  care  of  as  it 
ought  to  be,"  observed  Mrs.  Fisher,  "is  one 
thing,  and  when  it's  all  sixes  and  sevens  be- 
cause a  girl  doesn't  have  time  to  brush  it,  is 
another.  Your  hair  is  all  right  now,  Polly. 
There,  go,  child ; "  and  she  dismissed  her  with 


262       POLLY    TRIES    TO    DO    WHAT    IS    RIGHT. 

a  final  loving  pat.  "  I  can  trust  you,  and  when 
your  worry  gets  too  big  for  you,  why,  bring  it 
to  mother." 

So  Polly,  up  in  her  own  room  at  last,  crept 
into  a  corner,  and  there  went  over  every  word, 
bitterly  lamenting  what  she  had  done.  At  last 
she  could  endure  it  no  longer,  and  she  sprang 
up.  "  I'll  write  a  note  to  Pickering  and  say  I 
am  sorry,"  she  cried  to  herself.  "  Maybe  Ben 
will  take  it  to  him.  O,  dear !  I  forgot ;  Ben  is 
vexed  with  him ;  but  perhaps  he  will  leave  it 
at  the  door.  Any  way,  I'll  ask  him." 

So  Polly  scribbled  down  hastily : 

DEAR  PICKERING  : 

I  am  so  sorry  I  said  those  words  to  you ;  I  don't  see 
how  I  came  to.  Do  forget  them,  and  forgive 

POLLY. 

"Ben,  Ben!"  Polly  ran  over  the  stairs,  ner- 
vously twirling  the  little  note.  "  O,  dear  me, 
where  are  you,  Ben  ?  " 

"  Here,"  called  Ben,  "  in  Mamsie's  sewing- 
room." 

"  Oh !  I  beg  your  pardon,"  exclaimed  Polly, 
throwing  wide  the  door  on  the  tete-a-tete  Ben 
was  having  with  Charlotte. 


POLLY    TRIES    TO    DO    WHAT    IS    RIGHT.       263 

"  Come  in,  Polly,"  cried  Ben,  his  blue  eyes 
glowing  with  welcome.  "  That's  all  right ;  you 
don't  interrupt  us.  Charlotte  and  I  were  hav- 
ing a  bit  of  a  talk,  but  we're  through.  Now 
what's  the  matter?"  with  a  good  look  at 
Polly's  face. 

"  O,  Ben,  if  you  could,"  began  Polly  fearfully, 
"  it's  only  this,"  waving  the  note  with  trembling 
fingers.  "  Now  do  say  you  Avill  take  this  note 
to  Pickering  Dodge." 

"  Why,  I  thought  you  sent  him  a  note  before 
dinner,"  said  Ben  in  surprise. 

"  So  I  did ;  and  he  came,"  said  Polly,  her 
head  drooping  in  a  shamefaced  way,  "  and  I 
was  cross  to  him." 

"  O,  Polly,  you  cross  to  him  !  "  exclaimed 
Ben  ;  «  as  if  I'd  believe  that ! "  while  Charlotte 
stared  at  her  with  wide  eyes. 

"  I  truly  was,"  confessed  Polly.  "  There, 
don't  stop,  Ben,  to  talk  about  it,  please,  but  do 
take  this  note,"  thrusting  it  at  him. 

But  Ben  shook  his  head.  "  I  thought  I  told 
you,  Polly,  that  Pick  don't  want  to  speak  to 
me.  How  in  the  world  can  I  go  at  him  ? " 
At  this,  Charlotte  stared  worse  than  ever. 


264       POLLY    TRIES    TO    DO    WHAT    IS    RIGHT. 

"  You  needn't  go  in  the  house,"  said  Polly ; 
"  just  leave  it  at  the  door.  Ah,  do,  Ben  ; "  she 
went  up  to  him  and  coaxingly  patted  his  cheek. 

"All  right,  as  long  as  you  don't  want  me  to 
bore  him,"  said  Ben,  slowly  getting  out  of  his 
chair.  "  Here,  give  us  your  note,  Polly.  Of 
course  you'll  make  me  do  as  you  say." 

"You're  just  as  splendid  as  you  can  be," 
cried  Polly  joyfully.  "  There,  now,  Bensie," 
pushing  the  note  into  his  hand,  "do  hurry, 
that's  a  good  boy." 

And  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  Ben  rushed  in, 
meeting  Polly  in  the  hall,  his  face  aglow,  and 
eyes  shining.  "Here,  Polly,  catch  it,"  tossing 
her  a  note  ;  "  that's  from  Pick." 

"Why,  did  you  see  him?"  asked  Polly,  in 
amazement. 

"  Yes ;  couldn't  help  it  —  he  was  rushing  out 
the  door  like  a  whirlwind,  and  we  came  to- 
gether on  the  steps,"  said  Ben,  with  a  burst  of 
laughter  at  the  remembrance,  "  and  we  spoke 
before  we  meant  to ;  couldn't  help  it,  you 
know;  just  ran  into  each  other  —  and  he  read 
your  note,  and  then  he  flew  into  the  house,  and 
was  gone  a  moment  or  two,  and  came  back 


POLLY    TRIES    TO    DO    WHAT    IS    RIGHT.       265 

mumbling  it  was  all  his  fault,  and  he'd  written  ; 
that  you'd  understand,  or  something  of  that 
sort,  and  he  gave  me  this  note  to  carry  back ; 
and  I  guess  Pick  is  all  right,  Polly."  Ben 
drew  a  long  breath  of  relief  after  he  got 
through ;  he  was  so  unaccustomed  to  long- 
speeches. 

Polly  tore  open  her  note,  and  stooped  to  read 
it  by  the  dancing  flames  of  the  hall  fire. 

To  show  that  I  forgive  you,  Polly,  I'll  go  to-mor- 
row with  you  all  to  see  Jasper. 

PICKERING. 

"  Won't  Jasper  be  surprise'd  ? "  Phronsie 
kept  exclaiming  over  and  over,  when  they 
were  once  fairly  in  the  cars  ;  much  to  old  Mr. 
King's  delight,  who  never  tired  of  congratulat- 
ing himself  on  planning  the  outing.  "  Grand- 
papa dear,  I  do  think  it  was,  oh !  so  lovely  in 
you  to  take  us  all." 

"  Well,  Jasper  has  been  working  hard  lately," 
said  the  old  gentleman,  "  and  it  will  be  no  end 
of  good  to  him  even  if  it  doesn't  agree  with  you, 
my  pet,"  pinching  Phronsie's  ear. 

"  Oh,  but  it  does  agree  with  me,"  said  Phron- 


266       POLLY    TKIES    TO    DO    WHAT    IS    RIGHT. 

sie  in  great  satisfaction,  "  very  much,  indeed, 
Grandpapa." 

"  So  it  seems,"  said  the  old  gentleman. 
"Well,  now,  Phronsie,"  glancing  around  at  the 
rest  of  his  party,  "  everything  is  moving  on 
well,  and  I  believe  I'll  take  a  bit  of  a  nap ;  that 
is,  if  that  youngster,"  with  a  nod  toward  the 
end  of  the  car,  "  will  allow  me  to." 

"  I  don't  believe  that  baby  will  cry  any 
more,"  said  Phronsie,  with  a  hopeful  glance 
whence  the  disturbing  sounds  came,  "  he  can't, 
Grandpapa  ;  he's  cried  so  much.  Now  do  lean 
your  head  back  ;  I'm  going  to  put  this  rug 
under  it;"  and  Phronsie  began  to  pull  out  a 
traveling  blanket  from  the  roll. 

Polly,  across  the  car  aisle,  laid  down  her 
book,  and  clambered  out  her  seat.  "Let  me 
take  baby,"  she  said,  coming  up  unsteadily  to 
the  pale  little  woman  who  was  endeavoring 
to  pacify  a  stout,  red-cheeked  boy  a  year  old, 
just  beginning  on  a  fresh  series  of  roars. 

An  old  gentleman  in  the  seat  back,  laid  down 
the  paper  he  had  been  trying  to  read,  to  see 
the  fresh  attempts  on  the  small  disturber. 

"  He'll  tire  you  out,  Miss,"  said  the  pale 


POLLY    TRIES    TO    DO    WHAT   IS    BIGHT.       267 

woman  deprecatingly.  "  There,  there,  Johnny, 
do  be  still,"  with  an  uneasy  pull  at  Johnny's 
red  skirt. 

"Indeed  he  won't,"  laughed  Polly  merrily. 
Hearing  this,  Johnny  stopped  beating  the  win- 
dow in  the  vain  effort  to  get  out,  and  deliber- 
ately looked  Polly  over.  "  I  like  babies,"  added 
Polly,  "and  if  you'll  let  me,"  to  the  little 
mother,  "I'm  going  to  play  with  this  one." 
And  without  waiting  for  an  answer,  she  sat 
down  in  the  end  of  the  seat,  and  held  out  her 
hands  alluringly  to  Johnny. 

"Young  lady,  there  ai*e  babies  and  babies," 
observed  the  old  gentleman  solemnly,  and  lean- 
ing over  the  back  of  the  seat,  he  regarded  Polly 
over  his  spectacles  with -pitying  eyes,  "  and  I'd 
advise  you  to  have  nothing  to  do  with  this  par-, 
ticular  one." 

But  Johnny  was  already  scrambling  all  over 
Polly's  traveling  gown,  and  she  was  laughing 
at  him.  And  presently  the  pale  little  woman 
was  stretched  comfortably  on  the  opposite  seat, 
her  eyes  closed  restfully. 

"  Well  done ! "  cried  the  old  gentleman ;  "I'll 
read  my  paper  while  the  calm  spell  lasts ; "  as 


268       POLLY    TRIES    TO    DO    WHAT    IS    RIGHT. 

the  train  rumbled  on,  the  sound  only  broken  by 
Johnny's  delighted  little  gurgles,  as  Polly  played 
"  Rabbit  and  Fox  "  for  his  delectation. 

Phronsie  looked  down  the  intervening  space, 
and  heaved  a  sigh  at  Polly's  employment. 

"  Don't  worry ;  I  like  it,"  telegraphed  Polly, 
nodding  away  to  her.  So  Phronsie  turned 
again  to  her  watch,  lest  Grandpapa's  head 
should  slip  from  the  blanket  pillow  in  a  sudden 
lurch  of  the  cars. 

«  I'd  help  her  if  I  knew  how,"  Charlotte, 
several  seats  off,  groaned  to  herself,  "  but  that 
lump  of  a  baby  would  only  roar  at  me.  Dear, 
dear,  am  I  never  to  be  any  good  to  Polly '? " 

She  leaned  her  troubled  face  against  the 
window-side,  her  chin  resting  on  her  hand,  and 
gave  herself  up  to  the  old  thoughts.  "  What 
did  Ben  say  ?  "  she  cried  suddenly,  flying  away 
from  the  window  so  abruptly  that  she  involun- 
tarily glanced  around  to  be  quite  sure  that 
none  of  her  fellow-passengers  were  laughing  at 
her.  '"You  may  be  sure,  Charlotte,  if  you 
keep  on  the  lookout,  there  will  a  time  come  for 
you  to  help  Polly.'  That's  what  he  said,  and 
I'll  hold  fast  to  it." 


POLLY    TRIES    TO    DO    WHAT    IS    BIGHT.       269 

On  and  on  the  train  rumbled.  The  little 
mother  woke  up  with  a  new  light  in  her  eyes, 
and  a  pink  color  on  her  cheeks.  "  I  haven't 
had  such  a  sleep  in  weeks,"  she  said  gratefully. 
Then  she  leaned  forward. 

"  I'll  take  Johnny  now,"  she  said ;  "  you 
must  be  so  tired." 

But  Johnny  roared  out  "  No,"  and  beat  her 
off  with  small  fists  and  feet. 

"  He's  going  to  sleep,"  said  Polly,  looking 
down  at  him  snuggled  up  tightly  within  her 
arm,  his  heavy  eyelids  slowly  drooping,  "  then 
I'll  put  him  down  on  the  seat,  and  tuck  him  up 
for  a  good  long  nap." 

At  the  word  "  sleep  "  Johnny  screamed  out, 
"  No,  no  !  "  and  thrust  his  fat  knuckles  into  his 
eyes,  while  he  tried  to  sit  up  straight  in  Polly's 
lap. 

"  There,  there,"  cried  Polly  soothingly,  "  now 
fly  back,  little  bird,  into  your  nest." 

Johnny  showed  all  the  small  white  teeth  he 
possessed,  in  a  gleeful  laugh,  and  burrowed 
deeper  than  before  within  the  kind  arm  as  he 
tried  to  play  "  Bo-peep  "  with  hef. 

"  You  see,"  said  Polly,  to  the  little  mother's 


270       POLLY    TRIES    TO    DO    WHAT    IS    RIGHT. 

worried  look ;  "  he'll  soon  be  off  in  Nodland," 
she  added  softly. 

"  I've  never  had  any  one  be  so  good  to  me," 
said  Johnny's  mother  brokenly,  "  as  you,  Miss." 

"  Is  Johnny  your  only  little  boy  ?  "  asked 
Polly,  to  stop  the  flow  of  gratitude. 

"  Yes,  Miss  ;  I've  buried  four  children." 

"  Oh  !  "  exclaimed  Polly,  quite  hushed. 

The  little  mother  wiped  away  the  tears  from 
her  eyes,  and  looked  out  of  the  window,  steadily 
fixing  her  gaze  on  the  distant  landscape.  And 
the  train  sped  on. 

"  But  the  worst  is,  the  father  is  gone."  She 
turned  again  to  Polly,  then  glanced  down  at 
her  black  dress.  "Johnny  and  me  have  no  one 
now." 

"  Don't  try  to  tell  me,"  cried  Polly  involun- 
tarily, "  if  it  pains  you." 

She  would  have  taken  the  thin  hand  in  hers, 
but  Johnny's  uneasy  breathing  showed  him  still 
contesting  every  inch  of  progress  the  "  chil- 
dren's sandman  "  was  making  toward  him,  and 
she  didn't  dare  to  move. 

"  It  does  me  good,"  said  the  little  woman, 
"  somehow,  I  must  tell  you,  Miss.  And  now 


POLLY    TRIES    TO    DO    WHAT    IS    RIGHT.       271 

I'm  going  to  Fall  River.  Somebody  told  me 
I'd  get  work  there  in  the  Print  Mills.  You  see, 
I  haven't  any  father  nor  mother,  nor  anybody 
belonging  to  Johnny's  father  nor  me." 

"  Are  you  sure  of  getting  work  when  you 
reach  Fall  River  ?  "  asked  Polly,  feeling  all  the 
thrill  of  a  great  lonely  world,  for  two  such  little 
helpless  beings  to  be  cast  adrift  in  it. 

"  No'm,"  said  the  little  woman  ;  "  but  it's  a 
big  mill,  they  say,  and  has  to  have  lots  of 
women  in  it,  and  there  must  be  a  place  for  me. 
I  do  think  that  times  are  going  to  be  good  now 
for  Johnny  and  me,  and  " 

A  crash  like  that  when  the  lightning  begins 
on  deadly  work ;  a  surging,  helpless  tossing 
from  side  to  side,  when  the  hands  strike  blindly 
out  on  either  side  for  something  to  cling  to ;  a 
sudden  fall,  down,  down,  to  unknown  depths ; 
a  confused  medley  of  shouts,  and  one  long 
shuddering  scream. 

"  Oh !  what "  —  began  Polly,  holding  to 
Johnny  through  it  all.  And  then  she  knew  no 
more. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

THE    ACCIDENT. 

A  ROARING  sound  close  to  her  ear  made 
Polly  start,  and  open  her  eyes.     Johnny's 
fat  arms  were  clutched    around    her  neck   so 
tightly  she    could    scarcely  breathe,  while   he 
was  screaming  as  hard  as  he  could. 

—  "is  the  matter?"  cried  Polly,  finishing 
her  sentence. 

A  pair  of  strong  arms  were  lifting  her  up,  and 
pulling  her  from  beneath  something,  she  could 
not  tell  what,  that  was  lying  heavily  over  her, 
while  Johnny  rolled  off  like  a  ball. 

"  O,  Ben ! "  cried  Polly  gratefully,  as  the 
arms  carried  her  off.  And  then  she  saw  the 
face  above  her :  "  Why,  Pickering ! " 

"  Are  you  hurt  anywhere  ?  "  gasped  Picker- 
ing, speaking  the  words  with  difficulty. 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  cried  Polly,  in  a  dazed  way. 
272 


THE    ACCIDENT.  273 

"  There's  been  an  accident,"  said  Pickering. 
"  Oh,  Polly,  say  you're  not  hurt ! "  as  he  set 
her  carefully  down. 

"An  accident!"  exclaimed  Polly,  and  she 
sprang  to  her  feet  and  glanced  wildly  around. 
"  Pickering  —  where  —  where  "  —  she  couldn't 
ask  "are  Phronsie  and  Ben  and  Grandpapa?" 

But  Pickering  cried  at  once,  "  All  right  — 
every  single  one.  Here  comes  Phronsie,  and 
Ben  too." 

And  Phronsie  running  up,  with  streaming 
hair  and  white  cheeks,  threw  glad  arms  around 
her  neck.  "Oh,  Polly,  are  you  hurt?"  And 
Ben  seized  her,  but  at  that  she  winced  ;  and 
her  left  arm  fell  heavily  to  her  side. 

"  Where's  Baby  ? "  cried  Polly,  trying  to 
cover  up  the  expression  of  pain;  "do  some- 
body look  after  him." 

"  Charlotte  has  him,"  said  Phronsie,  looking 
off  to  a  grassy  bank  by  the  railroad  track, 
where  Charlotte  Chatterton  sat  with  Johnny 
in  her  lap. 

Polly  followed  the  glance,  then  off  to  the 
broken  car,  one  end  of  which  lay  in  ruins 
across  the  rails,  and  to  the  crowds  of  people 


274  THE    ACCIDENT. 

running  to  the  scene,  in  the  midst  of  which 
was  the  fearful  hush  that  proclaimed  death. 

"  Oh !  do  come  and  help,"  called  Polly,  and 
before  they  knew  it,  she  was  dashing  off,  and 
running  over  the  grass,  up  to  the  track.  "  There 
was  a  woman  —  Johnny's  mother,"  she  cried, 
pushing  her  way  into  the  crowd,  Phronsie  and 
Ben  and  Pickering  close  behind  —  "  in  the  seat 
opposite  me." 

Two  or  three  men  were  picking  up  a  still 
figure  they  had  just  pried  out  from  the  ruins 
of  the  car-end,  dropped  helplessly  on  its  side, 
just  as  it  fell  when  the  fatal  blow  came.  "  Let 
me  see  her,"  said  Polly  hoarsely.  They  turned 
the  face  obediently ;  there  was  a  long,  terrible 
gash  on  the  forehead  that  showed  death  to 
have  come  instantly  to  Johnny's  mother,  and 
that  "  good  times  "  had  already  begun  for  her, 
and  her  weary  feet  were  safely  at  rest  in  the 
Heavenly  Home. 

Polly  drew  a  long  breath,  and  bending  sud- 
denly dropped  a  kiss  on  the  peaceful  cheek; 
then  she  drew  out  her  handkerchief,  and  softly 
laid  it  over  the  dead  face.  "  Take  her  to  that 
farmhouse."  She  pointed  to  a  large  white 


THE    ACCIDENT.  277 

house  off  in  the  fields.  "  I  will  go  there  — 
but  I  must  help  here  first." 

"  Yes,  Miss,"  said  the  men  obediently,  mov- 
ing off  with  their  burden. 

"  Polly  —  Polly,  come  away,"  begged  Pick- 
ering and  Ben. 

"  Grandpapa  is  sitting  on  the  bank  over 
there,"  pointed  Phronsie,  with  a  beseeching 
finger.  "Oh,  do  go  to  him,  Polly;  I'll  stay 
and  help  the  poor  people." 

"  And  no  one  was  hurt,"  said  Ben  quickly, 
"only  in  this  end  of  the  car.  See,  Polly, 
everybody  is  out,"  pointing  past  the  crowd 
into  the  car,  to  the  vacant  seats. 

"There  was  an  old  gentleman  in  the  seat 
back  of  me,"  cried  Polly,  in  distress.  "  Hasn't 
any  one  seen  him  ?  "  running  up  and  down  the 
track ;  "  an  old  gentleman  with  a  black  velvet 
cap  "  —  amid  shouts  of  "  Keep  out  —  the  car  is 
taking  fire.  Don't  go  near  it." 

A  little  tongue  of  flame  shooting  from  one 
of  the  windows  at  the  further  end  of  the  car 
proclaimed  this  fact,  without  the  words. 

"Has  no  one  seen  him?"  called  Polly,  in  a 
voice  so  clear  and  piercing  that  it  rose  above 


278  THE    ACCIDENT. 

the  babel  of  the  crowd,  and  the  groans  of  one 
or  two  injured  people  drawn  out  from  the  ruin, 
and  lying  on  the  bank,  waiting  the  surgeon's 
arrival.  "Then  he  must  be  in  the  car.  Oh, 
Ben  —  come,  we  must  get  him  out !  "  and  she 
sprang  back  toward  the  broken  car  end. 

"  Keep  back,  Polly ! "  commanded  Ben,  and 
"  I  shall  go,"  cried  Pickering  Dodge.  But 
Polly  ran  too,  and  clambered  with  them,  over 
the  crushed  car  seats  and  window  frames  of 
the  ruin. 

"  He's  not  here,"  cried  Ben,  while  the  hot 
flame  seemed  to  be  sweeping  with  cruel  haste, 
down  to  catch  them. 

"  Look  —  oh,  he  must  be  !  "  cried  Polly 
wildly,  peering  into  the  ruin.  "  Oh,  Ben,  I  see 
a  hand ! " 

But  a  rough  grasp  on  her  shoulder  seized  her 
as  the  words  left  her  mouth.  "Come  out  of 
here,  Miss,  or  you'll  be  killed,"  and  Polly  was 
being  borne  off  by  rescuers  who  had  seen  her 
rush  with  the  two  young  men,  in  amongst  the 
ruin.  "I  tell  you,"  cried  Polly,  struggling  to 
get  free,  "  there  is  an  old  gentleman  buried  in 
there ;  I  saw  his  hand." 


THE    ACCIDENT.  279 

"Everybody  is  out,  Miss,"  and  they  carried 
her  off.  But  Ben  and  Pickering  were  already 
in  a  race  with  the  flames,  for  the  possession  of 
the  old  gentleman,  whose  body,  after  the  <5ar 
seat  was  removed,  could  plainly  be  seen. 

"  There's  the  axe,"  cried  Ben  hoarsely,  point- 
ing to  it,  where  it  had  fallen  near  to  Pickering. 

Pickering  measured  the  approach  of  the 
flames  with  a  careful  eye.  "  He  is  probably 
dead,"  he  said  to  Ben.  "  Shall  we  ?" 

"  Hand  the  axe,"  cried  Ben.  Already  the 
car  was  at  a  stifling  heat,  and  the  roar  of  the 
flames  grew  perilously  near.  Would  no  one 
come  to  help  them  ?  Must  they  die  like  animals 
in  a  trap  ?  Well,  the  work  was  to  be  done. 
Two  —  three  ringing  blows  breaking  away  a 
heavy  beam,  quick,  agile  pulling  up  of  the 
broken  window  frame,  and  in  the  very  teeth  of 
the  flames,  young  arms  bore  out  the  old  body. 

A  great  shout  burst  from  the  crowd  as  they 
staggered  forth  with  their  burden.  Pickering 
had  only  strength  to  look  around  for  Polly, 
before  he  dropped  on  the  grass. 

And  when  he  looked  up,  the  tears  were  rain- 
ing on  his  face. 


280  THE    ACCIDENT. 

"  O,  Pickering  !"  cried  Polly.  "Now  there 
isn't  anything  more  to  long  for.  You  are  all 
right?" 

'Pickering  lifted  his  head  feebly,  and  glanced 
around.  The  walls  of  the  "  spare  room"  at  the 
farm-house,  gay  in  large  flowered  paper,  met 
his  eyes.  "  Why,  where  am  I  ?"  he  began. 

"  At  good  Farmer  Higby's,"  said  Polly.  And 
then  he  saw  that  her  arm  was  in  a  sling.  "  That's 
nothing,"  she  finished,  meeting  his  look, "  it's  all 
fixed  as  good  as  can  be,  and  has  nothing  to  do 
but  get  well  —  has  it,  Ben  ?  " 

Ben  popped  up  his  head  from  the  depths  of 
the  easy  chair,  where  he  had  crouched,  afraid 
lest  Pickering  should  revive  and  see  him  too 
suddenly. 

"  How  are  you,  old  fellow  ? "  he  now  cried, 
advancing  toward  the  bed.  "  There,  don't  try 
to  speak,"  hurriedly,  "everything  is  all  right. 
Wait  till  you  are  better." 

"  How  long  have  I  been  here  ?  "  asked  Pick- 
ering, looking  at  Polly's  arm. 

"Only  a  day,"  said  Polly,  "and  now  you 
must  have  something  to  eat,"  starting  toward 
the  door. 


THE    ACCIDENT.  281 

"  I  couldn't  eat  a  mouthful,"  said  Pickering, 
shutting  his  mouth  and  turning  on  the  pillow. 

"  Indeed  you  will,"  declared  Polly,  hurrying 
on.  "The  doctor  said  as  soon  as  you  could 
talk,  you  must  have  something  to  eat ;  and  I 
shall  tell  Mrs.  Higby  to  bring  it  up."  So  she 
disappeared. 

"Goodness  me!  have  I  had  the  doctor?" 
asked  Pickering,  turning  back  to  look  after 
her. 

"Yes,"  said  Ben.  Then  he  tried  to  turn  the 
conversation.  But  Pickering  broke  in.  "  Did 
Polly  break  her  arm  at  —  at  the  first  ? "  he 
asked,  holding  his  breath  for  the  answer. 

"  Yes,"  said  Ben,  "  don't  talk  about  it,"  with 
a  gasp  —  "  Polly  says  that  she  is  so  glad  it  isn't 
her  right  arm,"  he  added,  with  an  attempt  at 
cheerfulness.  "  And  the  doctor  promises  it  will 
be  all  right  soon.  It's  lucky  there  is  a  good 
one  here." 

Pickering  groaned.  "  It's  a  pity  I  wasn't  in 
the  old  fellow's  place,  Ben,"  he  said,  "for  I've 
got  to  tell  Polly  how  I  wanted  to  leave  him,  and 
I'd  rather  die  than  see  her  face." 

"  See  here,"  cried  Ben,  "  if  you  say  one  word 


'282  TEE    ACCIDENT. 

to  Polly  about  it,  I'll  pitch  you  out  of  the  win- 
dow, sick  as  you  are." 

"  Pitch  ahead,  then,"  said  Pickering,  "  for  I 
shall  tell  Polly." 

"  Not  to-day,  any  way.  Now  promise,"  said 
Ben  resolutely. 

"  Well  —  but  I  shall  tell  her  sometime,"  said 
Pickering.  "  I'd  rather  she  knew  it  —  but  I 
wish  we  could  have  saved  him." 

"  He's  in  the  other  room,"  said  Ben  suddenly. 

"  Poor  old   thing  —  to  die  like  that." 

"Die?  He's  as  well  as  a  fish,"  said  Ben; 
"  sitting  up  in  an  easy  chair,  and  to  my  certain 
knowledge,  eating  dried  herrings  and  cheese  at 
this  very  minute." 

"  He's  eating  dried  herrings  and  cheese ! " 
repeated  Pickering,  nearly  skipping  out  of  bed. 
"  Why,  wasn't  he  dead  when  we  brought  him 
out?" 

"No,  only  stunned.  There,  do  get  back," 
said  Ben,  pushing  Pickering  well  under  the 
blankets  again,  "the  doctor  says  on  no  account 
are  you  to  get  up  until  he  came.  Do  keep 
still ;  he'll  be  here  presently,"  with  a  glance  at 
Mrs.  Higby's  chimney  clock. 


THE    ACCIDENT.  283 

"  The  doctor  —  who  cares  for  him ! "  cried 
Pickering,  nevertheless  he  scrambled  back 
again,  and  allowed  Ben  to  tuck  him  in  tightly. 
And  presently  in  came  Polly,  and  after  her,  a 


OLD    MR.    KING    DREW    UP   HIS   CHAIR   TO   OVERSEE   IT    ALL. 

bright  apple-cheeked  woman  bearing  a  tray,  on 
which  steamed  a  bowl  of  gruel. 

And  in  less  time  than  it  takes  to  tell  it,  Pick- 
ering was  bolstered  up  against  his  pillows,  and 
obediently  opening  his  mouth  at  the  right  times 
to  admit  of  the  spoonfuls  Polly  held  out  to  him. 
And  Phronsie  came  in  and  perched  on  the  foot 


284  THE    ACCIDENT. 

of  the  four-poster,  gravely  watching  it  all.  And 
old  Mr.  King  followed,  drawing  up  the  easy 
chair  to  the  bedside,  where  he  could  oversee 
the  whole  thing.  And  before  it  was  over,  the 
door  opened,  and  a  young  man,  with  a  profes- 
sional air,  looked  in  and  said  in  great  satisfac- 
tion, "  That's  good,"  coming  up  to  the  bed  and 
putting  out  his  hand  to  Pickering. 

"  Here's  the  doctor,"  cried  old  Mr.  King,  with 
a  flourish  of  his  palm.  "  Well,  Doctor  Bryce, 
your  patient  is  doing  pretty  well,  I  think." 

"  I  should  say  so,"  answered  the  doctor,  with 
a  keen  glance  at  Pickering.  "  O,  he's  all  right. 
How  is  the  arm?"  to  Polly. 

"  That  is  all  right  too,"  said  Polly  cheerfully, 
and  trying  to  talk  of  something  else. 

"  Let  me  feed  Pickering,  do,"  begged  Phron- 
sie,  slipping  from  the  bed,  "  while  Doctor  looks 
at  your  arm,  Polly." 

"  I  can  wait,"  said  the  doctor,  moving  down 
to  the  foot  of  the  four-poster,  where  he  stood 
looking  at  the  feeding  process,  "  and  I  can  go 
in  and  see  Mr.  Loughead  meanwhile." 

Pickering  dodged  the  spoon,  nearly  in  his 
mouth.  "  Who  ?  "  he  cried. 


THE    ACCIDENT.  285 

"  Dear  me,"  cried  Polly,  trying  to  save  the 
gruel  drops  from  falling  on  Mrs.  Higby's  crazy 
quilt,  "  how  you  frightened  me,  Pickering." 

"  Who  did  he  say  ?  "  demanded  Pickering,  as 
Dr.  Bryce  went  out. 

"  Pickering,"  said  Polly,  with  shining  eyes, 
"  who  do  you  think  you  and  Ben  saved  so 
bravely  ?  Jack  Loughead's  uncle,  who  has  just 
got  here  from  Australia,  and  he's"  — 

Pickering  gave  a  groan  and  turned  on  his 
pillow.  "  Don't  give  me  any  more,  Polly,"  he 
said,  putting  up  his  hand. 

Polly  set  the  spoon  in  the  gruel  bowl,  with  a 
disappointed  air. 

"  Never  mind,"  said  the  young  doctor,  com- 
ing back  again,  "  he's  eaten  enough.  Now  may 
I  see  your  arm  ?  "  He  turned  to  Polly  gently. 
"  We  must  go  in  the  other  room  for  that,"  with 
a  nod  at  Pickering. 

A  thrill  went  over  Phronsie,  which  she  tried 
her  best  to  conceal,  and  she  turned  quite  pale. 
Polly  smiled  at  her  as  she  went  over  toward  the 
door,  followed  by  the  doctor,  old  Mr.  King  and 
Ben.  Pickering  Dodge  clenched  his  hand  under 
the  bedclothes,  and  looked  after  them,  then 


286  THE    ACCIDENT. 

steadfastly  gazed  at  the  large  flowers  blooming 
with  reckless  abandon  up  and  down  over  the 
dark-green  wall-paper. 

"  Phronsie,"  said  Polly,  hearing  her  footsteps 
joining  the  others  out  in  the  hall,  "  will  you  go 
in  and  see  how  Charlotte  is  getting  on  with 
Johnny  ?  Do,  dear,"  she  whispered  in  Phron- 
sie's  ear,  as  she  gained  her  side. 

"  I'd  rather  stay  with  you,  Polly,"  said  Phron- 
sie wistfully,  "  and  hold  your  other  hand." 

"  But  I  do  so  want  you  to  help  Charlotte," 
said  Polly  beseechingly.  "  Will  you,  Phronsie?" 
and  she  set  a  kiss  on  Phronsie's  pale  cheek. 

"  I  will,  Polly,"  said  Phronsie,  with  a  sigh. 
But  she  looked  back  as  she  went  slowly  along 
to  the  opposite  end  of  the  hall.  "  Please  don't 
hurt  Polly,"  she  said  imploringly  to  the  doctor. 

"  I  won't,  little  girl,"  he  replied,  "  any  more 
than  I  can  help." 

"  Good-by,"  called  Polly  cheerfully,  and  she 
threw  her  a  kiss  with  her  right  hand. 

Mrs.  Farmer  Higby  stood  on  her  flat  door- 
stone,  shading  her  eyes  writh  her  hand. 

"  Seems 's  if  I  sha'n't  ever  get  over  the  shock," 


THE    ACCIDENT.  287 

she  said  to  herself,  looking  off  to  the  railroad 
track,  shining  in  the  morning  sunlight.  "  To  look 
up  from  my  sewing  and  see  —  la !  and  'twas  the 
first  time  I  ever  sat  down  to  that  rag-rug  since 
I  had  to  drop  it  and  run  over  and  take  care  of 
Simon,  when  they  brought  me  word  he  was 
'most  cut  to  pieces  in  the  mowing  machine. 
My  senses !  I'm  afraid  to  finish  the  thing." 

The  frightened  look  in  her  eyes  began  to 
deepen,  and  she  shook  as  if  the  chill  of  a  winter 
day  were  upon  her,  instead  of  the  soft  air  of  a 
mild  morning  in  spring. 

"  I  want  to  get  out  in  the  woods  and  holler," 
she  declared  ;  "  seems  's  if  then  I'd  feel  better. 
To  look  up,  expecting  to  see  the  cars  coming 
along  real  lively  and  pleasant,  just  as  they 
always  do  so  sociable-like  when  I'm  sewing, 
and  then  —  oh,  dear  me  !  "  she  wrung  her  fat 
hands  together,  "  there,  all  of  a  .sudden,  were 
two  of  'em  bumping  together,  one  end  smashed 
into  kindling  wood,  and  t'other  end  sticking  up 
straight  in  the  air.  Oh!  my  senses,  I  don't 
wonder  I  thought  I  was  going  crazy,  and  that 
I  let  the  rug  fly  and  jumped  into  the  middle  of 
the  floor,  till  I  heard  the  screaming,  and  I  run 


288  THE    ACCIDENT. 

to  help,  and  there  was  that  poor  soul  they  were 
bringing  here,  and  she  dead  as  a  stone.  Oh, 
dear,  dear ! " 

Mrs.  Higby  turned  away  so  that  she  could 
not  see  the  shining  railroad  track,  and  looked 
off  over  the  meadow,  while  a  happier  expression 
came  over  her  features.  "  I'm  awful  tickled  this 
house  is  big,"  she  said,  with  a  good  degree  of 
comfort,  "  so  's  Jotham  and  me  could  take  'em 
in.  Now  I'm  glad  we  didn't  sell  last  spring, 
when  Mary  Ann  was  married,  and  move  down 
to  the  village.  Seems  's  if  Providence  was  in 
it.  Gracious,  see  that  man  running  here !  I 
hope  there  ain't  anything  else  happened ! "  and 
with  her  old  flutter  upon  her,  Mrs.  Higby  turned 
to  meet  a  young  man  advancing  to  the  door- 
stone,  with  more  speed  than  was  ordinarily 
exhibited  by  the  natives  of  Brierly. 

"  Is  this  Mr.  Jotham  Higby's  house  ?  "  asked 
the  stranger.  And  although  he  was  very  pale 
and  evidently  troubled,  he  touched  his  hat,  and 
waited  for  her  answer. 

"Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Higby ;  "  what  do  you  want  V 
Do  excuse  me,"  all  in  the  same  breath,  "  but  I'm 
all  upset ;  there  was  an  awful  railroad  accident 


TITE    ACCIDENT.  289 

along  here  yesterday.  You  haven't  come  to 
tell  of  anything  else  bad,  have  you?"  And 
she  was  sharper  than  ever. 

"  No,"  said  the  young  man,  "  my  friends  are 
here ;  you  took  them  in  so  kindly.  Do  show 
me  the  way  to  them."  He  was  quite  imperative 
now,  moving  over  the  flat  stone,  and  into  the 
square  entry  like  one  accustomed  to  being 
obeyed.  "Which  way?"  he  asked,  glancing 
up  the  stairs. 

"  Oh,  my !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Higby,  "  excuse 

me,  sir  ;  the  rooms  upstairs  "  —  nodding  like  a 

mandarin  in  the  direction  named,  "  any  of  'em 

—  all  of  'em ;  they've  got  'em  all ;  you  can't 

make  a  miss." 

The  young  man  was  already  opening  the 
door  of  the  room  where  Dr.  Bryce  was  exam- 
ining Polly's  arm,  old  Mr.  King  and  Ben  look- 
ing on  anxiously. 

Polly  saw  him  first.  "  Oh,  Jasper ! "  she  cried, 
with  a  sudden  start. 

"  Take  care  ! "  exclaimed  Dr.  Bryce,  looking 
off  from  the  bandages  he  was  nicely  adjusting, 
to  bestow  a  keen  glance  on  Jasper. 

Jasper  gave  one  hand  to  his  father  in  passing, 


290  THE    ACCIDENT. 

but  went  straight  to  Polly's  side,  and  laid  his 
other  hand  on  her  shoulder. 

"  It's  all  right,  Jasper,"  said  Polly,  seeing  he 
couldn't  speak.  "  Doctor  says  my  arm  is  doing 
beautifully." 

"  Well,  well,"  said  old  Mr.  King,  trying  to 
speak  cheerfully,  but  only  succeeding  in  a 
nervous  effort,  "this  isn't  just  the  most  success- 
ful way  to  give  you  a  surprise  party,  Jasper,  but 
it's  the  best  we  could  do.  And  we  had  to  send 
you  a  telegram,  for  fear  you'd  see  it  in  the 
papers.  So  you  thought  you'd  come  on  and 
see  for  yourself,  eh  ? "  as  Jasper  showed  no 
inclination  to  talk. 

"  Yes,"  said  Jasper,  still  confining  himself  to 
monosyllables. 

"And  that's  the  sensible  thing  to  do,"  said 
Ben,  with  a  grateful  look  at  Jasper,  "  than  to 
wait  till  we  are  able  to  move  on  —  Pickering 
and  all." 

"  Is  Pickering  Dodge  with  you?"  exclaimed 
Jasper,  quickly. 

Polly  turned  in  her  chair,  and  looked  into 
his  eyes.  "  Yes ;  Pickering  came  with  us 
expressly  to  see  you.  Jasper."  Then  without 


THE    ACCIDENT.  291 

waiting  for  an  answer,  "  He  is  in  the  next 
room  ;  do  go  and  see  him." 

"  Very  well,"  said  Jasper,  "  I'll  be  back  in  a 
moment  or  two,  father,"  going  out. 

Pickering  Dodge  still  lay,  gazing  at  the 
sprawling  flowers  on  the  wall,  and  doing  his 
best  not  to  count  them.  The  door  opened 
suddenly.  "  Well,  well,  old  fellow."  Jasper 
came  up  to  the  bedside  with  the  air  of  one  who 
had  been  in  the  habit  of  running  in  every  little 
while.  "  It's  good  to  see  you  again,  Pick,"  he 
added,  affectionately,  laying  his  hand,  that 
good  right  hand,  on  the  nervous  one  playing 
with  the  coverlids. 

"  Of  course  you  couldn't  do  what  I  asked,  Jas- 
per ;  no  one  could,"  said  Pickering,  rolling  over 
to  look  at  him.  "And  I  was  a  fool  to  ask  it." 

"  But  I  might  have  been  kinder,"  said  Jasper, 
compressing  his  lips  ;  "  forget  that,  Pick." 

"Don't  say  any  more,"  said  Pickering,  his 
face  flushing,  "  and  I  know  it's  all  up  with  me, 
any  way,  Jasper."  And  he  turned  pale  again. 
"  We  pulled  an  old  fellow  out  of  the  wreck,  at 
least  Ben  did  the  most  of  it  —  Polly  wanted  us 
to ;  and  who  do  you  suppose  he  is  ?  Why,  Jack 


292  THE    ACCIDENT. 

Loughead's   uncle.      Of   course   he'll   be   here 
soon,  and  it's  easy  to  see  the  end." 

At  that,  Pickering  bolted  up  in  bed  to  a  sit- 
ting position,  and  clutched  at  the  collar  of  his 
morning  jacket  with  savage  fingers. 

"  Don't,  Pick,"  begged  Jasper,  in  an  unsteady 
voice. 

"  I'm  going  to  get  up,"  declared  Pickering 
deliberately.  "  Clear  out,  Jasper,"  with  a  for- 
bidding gesture,  "  or  I'll  pitch  into  you." 

"  You'll  lie  down,"  said  Jasper  decidedly ; 
"  there,  get  in  again,"  with  a  gentle  push  on 
Pickering's  long  legs.  "  Aren't  you  ashamed  of 
yourself,  though,  to  act  like  this!"  trying  to 
speak  playfully. 

Pickering  scrambled  back  into  bed,  fuming 
every  instant.  "  To  lie  like  a  log  here,  while 
that  fellow  dashes  around  carrying  everything 
before  him  —  it's  —  it's  —  abominable  and  atro- 
cious !  Let  me  out,  I  say  ! "  And  he  dashed 
toward  the  edge  of  the  bed,  nearly  knocking 
Jasper  over. 

"  Hold  on,  there,"  cried  Jasper,  pinning  down 
the  clothes  with  a  firm  hand,  "  don't  you  see"  - 
while  Pickering  struggled  to  toss  them  back. 


THE    ACCIDENT.  298 

"Take  care,  you'll  tear  this  quilt!  —  that  I'll 
help  you  on  to  your  feet  all  in  good  time  ?  And 
if  you  behave  yourself,  you'll  be  around,  and 
a  match  for  any  Jack  Loughead  under  the 
heavens.  There,  now,  will  you  be  still  ?  " 

"  Send  that  dunce  of  a  doctor  to  me  as  soon 
as  you  can,"  said  Pickering,  rolling  back  sud- 
denly once  more,  into  the  hollow  made  in  the 
center  of  the  four-poster.  "  Dear  me,  he's  sweet 
on  Polly  too ! "  he  groaned  under  the  clothes. 

"  Whew ! "  exclaimed  Jasper,  pulling  out  his 
handkerchief  to  wipe  his  forehead.  "  I  won't 
agree  to  hold  you  in  bed  again,  Pick.  I'll  send 
the  doctor,"  he  added,  going  out,  "  but  you  see 
that  you  don't  lose  your  head  while  I'm  gone." 

"  I'll  promise  nothing,"  said  Pickering  softly 
to  himself,  the  moment  the  door  closed,  and 
slipping  neatly  out  of  bed,  he  tiptoed  over  and 
turned  the  key  in  the  lock.  "  There,"  snapping 
his  fingers  in  the  air,  "  as  if  I'd  have  that  idiot 
of  a  doctor  around  me."  Then  he  proceeded 
to  dress  himself  very  rapidly,  but  with  pains- 
taking care. 

"  I'm  all  right,"  and  he  gave  himself  a  final 
shake  ;  "  that  doctor  would  have  made  a  fool  of 


294  THE    ACCIDENT. 

me  and  kept  me  in  bed,  like  enough,  fora  week. 
And  with  that  Jack  Loughead  here !  "  He  gave 
a  swift  glance  into  the  cracked  looking-glass 
hanging  over  the  high  shelf,  and  with  another 
pull  at  his  necktie-end,  unlocked  the  door  and 
went  out. 

"Halloo!" 

"  Oh,  beg  pardon ! "  A  long  figure  that 
had  just  scaled  the  stairs,  came  suddenly  up 
against  Pickering,  stalking  along  the  narrow 
hall. 

"  How  d'ye  do?  "  said  Pickering  quite  jauntily, 
and  extending  the  tips  of  his  fingers ;  "just  got 
here,  I  take  it,  Loughead  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  returned  Jack  Loughead.  Pickering 
was  made  no  more  steady  in  his  mind,  nor 
on  his  feet,  by  seeing  the  other's  evident  uneasi- 
ness, but  he  covered  it  up  by  a  careless  "  Well, 
I  suppose  you  have  come  to  look  up  your 
uncle,  hey  ?  " 

"  Yes,  oh,  yes,"  said  Jack,  "  of  course,  my 
uncle.  Well,  were  any  of  the  others  hurt  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  one  woman  was  killed."  Pickering 
could  not  trust  himself  to  mention  Polly's  broken 
arm  yet. 


THE    ACCIDENT.  295 

Jack  Loughead's  face  carried  the  proper 
amount  of  sympathy.  "  No  one  of  your  party 
was  hurt,  I  believe  ?  "  he  said  quickly. 

"  Oh,  look  us  over,  and  see  for  yourself,"  said 
Pickering,  beginning  to  feel  faintish,  and  as  if 
he  would  like  to  sit  down.  And  then  the  door 
at  the  end  of  the  hall  was  opened,  and  out 
came  all  the  others  and  the  doctor,  who  was 
saying,  "  I'll  just  step  in  and  look  at  the  young 
man,  though  he's  doing  well  enough  —  oh,  my 
gracious  ! " 

"  Thank  you,  I  am  doing  well  enough,"  said 
Pickering,  with  his  best  society  manner  on,  and 
extending  his  hand,  "  much  obliged,  I'm  sure ; 
what  I  should  have  done  without  you,  I  don't 
know,  of  course ;  send  in  your  bill,  and  I  shall 
be  only  too  happy  to  make  it  all  right." 

Jack  Loughead  rushed  up  to  Polly.  "  No 
one  told  me  —  is  your  arm—  '  he  couldn't 
say  "broken,"  being  quite  beyond  control  of 
himself. 

"  How  are  you,  Mr.  Loughead  ?  "  said  old  Mr. 
King  rather  stiffly,  at  being  overlooked,  and 
putting  out  his  courtly  old  hand. 

"Oh,  beg  pardon ."    Jack  mumbled  something 


296  THE    ACCIDENT. 

about  being  an  awkward  fellow  at  the  best,  and 
extended  a  shaking  hand. 

"  You  are  anxious  to  see  your  uncle,  of 
course,"  continued  the  old  gentleman,  leading 
off  down  the  hall,  "  this  way,  Mr.  Loughead." 

"  Of  course,  yes,  indeed,"  stammered  Jack 
Loughead,  having  nothing  to  do  but  to  follow. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

JOEL. 

JOEL  threw  down  his  books  in  an  uneasy 
way.  "  I  must  give  it  up ;  there's  no 
other  way,"  he  exclaimed. 

"Halloo,  Joe!" 

"  You  here  ? "  cried  Joel,  whirling  in  sur- 
prise. "  Come  out  of  your  hole,  Dave,"  peer- 
ing into  the  niche  between  the  book-shelves  and 
the  bed.  "What  are  you  prowling  in  there 
for?" 

"Oh!  my  cuff-button  rolled  in  here  some- 
where," said  David,  emerging  crab-wise,  and 
lifting  a  red  face.  "  Give  us  a  hand,  Joe,  and 
help  pull  out  the  bed.  Plague  on  this  room 
for  being  such  a  box !  There ! "  with  an  im- 
patient shove. 

Joel  burst  into  a  fit  of  laughter,  and  then 
stared ;  it  was  such  an  unusual  thing  to  see  a. 
297 


298  JOEL. 

frown  on  David's  placid  face.  "  What's  come 
over  you,  any  way?  Stand  out  of  the  way;  I'll 
have  this  bed  over  there  in  a  jiffy,"  rolling  it 
into  the  center  of  the  small  room  as  he  spoke. 

David  sprang  to  one  side  lightly.  "  Whew ! 
what  a  dust  you  kick  up,"  he  cried,  snapping 
his  clothes  gingerly. 

"  So  you  are  in  your  best  toggery,"  exclaimed 
Joel,  standing  straight,  his  labors  over  the  bed 
being  completed. 

"  Yes,  I'm  going  to  the  Parrotts'  to  dinner," 
said*  David,  hurrying  off  for  the  whisk  broom 
to  remove  the  last  speck  of  dust  from  his  dress 
suit.  "Of  course  you've  forgotten  it,  Joe, 
though  I  don't  suppose  you'd  go,  any  way." 

"  No,  I  wouldn't  go,  any  way,"  said  Joel, 
tossing  back  his  black  locks  from  his  forehead. 
"  You  forget,  Dave,  it's  the  Association  night." 

David  let  another  little'  frown  settle  on  his 
face.  "  No,  I  didn't  forget  that,  Joe,  but  I  do 
wish  you'd  think  it  possible  to  take  a  Thursday 
evening  off  once  in  a  while  for  the  sake  of 
your  friends,  if  for  no  other  reason." 

"  Well,  I  can't,"  said  Joel,  getting  down  on 
all-fours  to  hunt  for  the  button,  "  so  don't  let's 


JOEL.  299 

go  over  old  arguments.  Where  in  time  is  that 
tiling?  oh"  —and  he  came  up  bright  and  shin- 
ing to  his  feet,  holding  the  button  between  his 
thumb  and  finger.  "  My  compliments  to  you," 
presenting  it  to  David.  "  There,  stick  it  in  be- 
fore it  gets  lost  again,  and  hurry  off ;  you  look 
pretty  as  a  pink." 

"  Stop  your  nonsense,  Joe,"  cried  David 
sharply,  who  hated  being  reminded  of  his  girl- 
ish beauty.  "  Well,  I'll  make  the  usual  excuses 
for  you.  Good-by,"  and  not  forgetting  to  pick 
up  his  walking  stick  with  his  hat,  he  ran  off  on 
his  way  to  the  florist's  for  the  boutonniere  that 
must  go  on  before  he  presented  himself  at  the 
Parrotts'  dinner  party. 

Joel  shoved  back  the  bed  into  position  with 
one  long  thrust  that  would  have  been  a  god- 
send to  a  lagging  boat  crew;  then  dashed  to 
the  table  and  sat  down,  doggedly  throwing 
open  the  first  book  that  came  to  hand. 

"  I'd  rather  chop  wood,"  he  exclaimed  in 
the  old  way,  leaning  his  head  on  his  hands. 
"  Whew !  weren't  those  good  days,  though,  in 
the  little  brown  house,  when  we  had  all  out- 
doors to  work  in  ! "  He  dropped  his  arms  to 


300  JOEL. 

pinch  the  muscles  of  one  Avith  his  other  fingers. 
"  Isn't  that  beautiful  ?  "  he  said  affectionately. 
Then  he  swung  them  over  his  head,  tilting  back 
his  chair  restfully. 

"  What  did  Mamsie  say  ?  "  he  cried,  bringing 
the  chair  down  with  a  remorseful  thud.  " '  I'd 
work  myself  to  skin  and  bone  but  I'd  go  through 
creditably.'  Here  goes ! " 

And  by  the  time  that  Davie  was  handing  in 
Miss  Lulu  Parrott  to  dinner  Joel  clapped  to- 
gether his  last  book,  threw  on  his  hat,  and 
rushed  out  to  a  hasty  supper  at  Commons,  en 
route  to  the  Christian  Association  meeting. 

Little  Perkins  ran  up  to  him  at  the  close  of 
the  meeting.  "  Stop  a  bit,  Pepper,  do,"  he 
begged;  "Johnson's  gone  back  to  his  cups, 
and  we  can't  do  anything  with  him." 

A  cloud  fell  over  Joel's  face.  "Where  is 
he?"  he  asked! 

"  Oh,  in  the  little  room  back.  He  won't  show 
his  face  here,  and  yet  he  can't  keep  away,  he 
says.  You  must  get  your  hand 'on  him,  Pep- 
per," and  Little  Perkins  hurried  off. 

Joel  dashed  into  the  "little  room  back." 
*'  How  d'ye,  Johnson  ? "  putting  out  his  hand. 


JOEL.  301 

"  Come  out  for  a  walk,  do ;  why,  this  room 
is  stifling." 

"  I  can't,"  said  Johnson  miserably ;  "  you 
don't  know,  Mr.  Pepper,  I've  been  drinking,  or 
you  wouldn't  ask  me." 

"  Nonsense  —  but  I  would,  though,"  said  Joel 
sharply.  "  Come  out,  I  say,  Johnson ;  it's 
enough  to  make  you  drink  again  to  stay  in 
such  a  room." 

Johnson  not  getting  out  of  his  chair,  Joel 
went  in  and  laid  hold  of  his  arm.  "  It's  no 
use,  Johnson,"  he  said,  "  I  can't  talk  to  you 
here ;  it's  too  hot  and  close.  And  I  do  want  a 
walk,  so  let's  have  it  together.  There,  button 
up  your  coat,"  as  they  were  well  out  in  the 
hall,  and  Johnson  flung  his  hat  on  his  head 
with  a  reckless  hand. 

As  they  hurried  down  the  steps  they  ran 
against  a  crowd  of  college  boys.  Johnson 
shrank  up  miserably  against  the  stone  fence, 
and  tried  to  look  as  small  as  possible.  Glances 
of  recognition  passed,  and  Joel  spoke  to  right 
and  left  as  the  boys  went  by.  But  a  few  hisses, 
low  and  insistent,  were  all  he  got. 

"  Do  let  me  go,"  begged  Johnson,  still  hug- 


302  JOEL. 

ging  the  fence,  "you  can't  save  me;  and  they 
hate  you  enough  for  such  work." 

"  Come  on  ! "  roared  Joel  at  him,  and  pluck- 
ing him  off  from  the  fence  with  a  determined 
hand. 

"  It's  time  we  went  for  him,"  said  one  of  the 
college  boys,  with  a  backward  glance  at  Joel 
and  his  companion,  "  the  Deacon  is  absolutely 
insulting.  The  idea  of  his  speaking  to  us." 

"  Let's  have  it  over  to-night,"  said  another. 
"  What  do  you  say?"  to  the  others. 

"Where's  Davina?"  asked  another. 

"Oh,  Pink-and- White  is  out  dining,"  said 
the  first  voice.  "  My  pretty  little  girl  is  safe 
at  the  Parrotts'." 

"Sure?" 

"As  a  gun.  Met  him  with  a  posy  in  his 
button -hole,  and  sweet  as  a  little  bud  himself, 
and  he  told  me  so." 

"  All  right.  He'll  stay  away  late,  then  ;  the 
Parrotts  always  have  music  or  a  dance  after 
their  dinners.  Come  on."  The  last  speaker 
rolled  up  his  sleeves,  and  boxed  imaginary 
rounds  in  a  scientific  manner  in  the  air. 

"  Agreed  ?  "  the  tall  fellow  who  proposed  it 


JOEL.  303 

looked  over  the  whole  crew.  "  Do  you  all 
want  to  have  it  done  to-night  ?  "  as  they  came 
to  a  standstill  on  the  pavement. 

"  Yes  —  yes." 

"  Hush  —  that  cop  is  looking.  Move  on,  will 
you?  Now,  not  a  man  of  you  backs  out,  you 
understand ;  if  he  does,  he  gets  worse  than  the 
Deacon  will.  All  right." 

"  We're  all  such  jolly  good  fellows, 
We're  all  such  jolly  good  fellows"  — 

Everybody  smiled  who  passed  them  singing 
their  way  down  town. 

"  It  always  does  me  good  to  hear  those  stu- 
dents sing.  They're  so  happy,  and  so  affec- 
tionate toward  each  other,"  said  one  lady, 
hanging  on  her  escort's  arm. 

He,  being  a  college  man,  said  rapturously, 
"Oh  yes!" 

Joel,  back  in  his  own  room,  threw  himself       ,: 
in  his  easy  chair,  first  turning  down  the  gas. 
"Just  so  much  less  of  a  bill  for  Grandpapa. 
Our   debt  is  rolling   up    fast  enough   without 


304  JOEL. 

burning  up  the  money.  Dear  me,  if  Johnson 
drinks  after  this,  I  shall  be  in  despair."  He 
threw  up  his  long  legs,  and  rested  them  on  the 
mantel,  while  he  thrust  his  hands  in  his  pockets, 
to  think  the  better. 

A  knock  at  the  door.  "  Come  in  ! "  called 
Joel,  not  looking  around,  till  a  rushing  sound 
of  feet  trying  to  step  carefully,  called  him  out 
of  himself. 

"  Now  —  now  ! "  Two  or  three  swifter  than 
the  others,  darted  for  the  chair,  but  Joel  was 
not  in  it.  On  the  other  side  of  it,  looking  at 
them,  his  hands  out  of  his  pockets,  he  stood, 
saying,  "What  do  you  want?" 

"  Oh,  come,  Pepper,  it's  no  use,"  said  a  tall 
fellow,  wiry  and  agile,  "  too  many  against  you 
in  this  little  call.  Come  along,"  and  he 
advanced  on  Joel. 

"You  come  along  yourself,  Dobbs,"  said 
Joel  pleasantly,  and  holding  up  a  fist  that 
looked  hard  to  begin  with,  "and  you'll  get 
this ;  that's  all." 

"  Come  on,  fellows ! "  Dobbs  looked  back  and 
winked  to  the  others.  "  Now ! "  there  was  a 
shoulder-to-shoulder  rush ;  a  wild  tangle  of 


JOEL.  307 

arms,  followed  by  a  wilder  tangle  of  legs,  and 
Joel  was  through  the  ranks,  his  black  eyes 
blazing,  and  tossing  his  black  hair  from  his 
forehead. 

"  Do  you  want  some  more  ?  "  he  cried,  flirt- 
ing his  fists  in  the  air,  "  or  will  you  leave  my 
room?" 

"  Lock  the  door !  "  "  Get  up,  Bingley,"  and, 
"  Stop  your  roaring."  "  No,  we'll  give  it  to  you 
now,  and  no  mistake."  "  If  you  won't  come 
quietly,  you  shall  some  way,  Deacon." 

These  were  some  of  the  smothered  cries. 

"  Now ! "  and  there  was  another  blind  rush  ; 
this  time,  over  Bingley,  who  didn't  heed  the 
invitation  to  get  up. 

Joel,  watching  his  chance  to  reach  the  door, 
had  no  time  before  they  were  on  him,  and  he 
heard  the  key  click  in  the  lock. 

"  It's  for  Mamsie  now,  sure  — and  for  Polly  ! " 
he  said,  setting  his  teeth  hard.  On  they  came. 
But  Joel,  in  rushing  through  as  before,  was 
so  mindful  of  stepping  over  Bingley  carefully, 
that  it  lost  him  an  instant ;  and  a  grasp  firm  as 
iron,  was  on  his  arm.  The  others  rallied,  and 
closed  around  him. 


308  JOEL. 

"  Unhand  me  ! "  yelled  Joel,  beating  them 
off.  Hut  he  might  as  well  have  fought  tigers, 
unless  he  could  knock  off,  with  cruel  aim,  the 
one  hanging  to  his  arm.  It  was  no  time  to 
mince  matters,  and  Joel,  only  careful  to  avoid 
the  face,  struck  a  terrible  blow  that  felled  Dobbs 
flat. 

"  Now  will  you  go  ?  "  roared  Joel,  aghast  at 
what  he  had  done,  yet  swinging  his  arms  with 
deadly  intent  on  either  side,  "  or,  do  you  want 
some  more  ?  " 

There  lay  two  valiant  fellows  on  the  floor. 
The  rest  drew  off  and  looked  at  them. 

"  You'll  pay  for  this,  Deacon,"  they  declared 
under  their  breath. 

"  I  suppose  so,"  said  Joel,  still  swinging  his 
arms  for  practice  ;  "  probably  you'll  wait  for  me 
with  kindly  intent  some  dark  night  behind  a 
tree,  as  you  know  I  don't  carry  a  pistol.  Why 
don't  you  have  it  out  now  ?  Come  on  if  you 
want  to." 

But  no  one  seemed  to  want  to. 

"  There'll  be  a  row  over  this,"  said  one  or 
two,  consulting  together ;  "  as  long  as  those  thin- 
skinned  fellows  don't  get  up,"  pointing  to  the 


JOEL.  309 

floor,  "  we    must    wait."     Suddenly    the    door 
was  unlocked,  and  the  whole  crew  stampeded. 

"  See  here,"  cried  Joel,  bounding  after  them, 
"  come  back  and  take  care  of  your  two  men." 

But  the  crew  disappeared. 

Bingley  lifted  his  head  feebly. 

"  Just  like  Dobbs,"  he  said,  "  get  us  into  a 
scrape,  and  then  cut." 

"  Hush  —  don't    say    anything,"    said    Joel, 
rushing  frantically  back,  "  I  think  he's  dead  — 
oh,  Bingley,  I'm  sorry  I  hurt  you  too." 

He  was  rapidly  pouring  water  into  the  basin, 
and  dashing  it  into  Dobbs'  unconscious  face.  "  I 
must  go  for  the  doctor,"  he  groaned.  "  Bingley, 
he  can't  be  dead  —  do  say  he  isn't ! "  in  a  flood 
of  remorse. 

Bingley  managed  to  roll  over  and  look  at  his 
late  leader.  "  He  looks  like  it,"  he  said ;  "  I 
shouldn't  think  you'd  be  sorry,  Pepper." 

"  Oh  ! "  groaned  Joel,  quite  horror-stricken, 
and  dashing  the  water  with  a  reckless  hand, 
feeling  like  a  murderer  all  the  time. 

"  Bingley,  could  you  manage  to  do  this  ?  "  at 
last  he  cried  in  despair.  "  I  must  run  for  a 
doctor,  there's  not  a  minute  to  lose." 


310  JOEL. 

"  I  wouldn't  go  for  any  doctor,"  advised 
Bingley  cautiously  ;  "see;  his  eyelids  are  mov- 
ing—  this  row  will  be  all  over  town  if  you  do." 

But  Joel  was  flying  off.  "  Come  back ! " 
called  Bingley,  "  I  vow  he's  all  right ;  he's 
opened  his  eyes,  Pepper." 

Joel  turffed  ;  saw  for  himself  that  Dobbs  was 
really  looking  at  him,  and  that  his  lips  moved 
as  if  he  wanted  to  say  something. 

"  What  is  it,  Dobbs  ?  "  cried  Joel,  throwing 
himself  down  on  his  knees  by  Dobbs'  side. 

"  Let  him  alone,  and  help  me  up,"  said 
Bingley  crossly,  "  I'm  hurt  a  great  deal  more. 
He's  tough  as  a  boiled  owl.  Give  us  a  hand, 
Pepper." 

But  Joel  had  his  ear  down  to  Dobbs'  mouth. 

"  Where  are  the  fellows  ?  "  asked  Dobbs  in  a 
whisper. 

"  Gone,"  answered  Joel,  briefly. 

".Gone  —  and  left  me  here  like  a  dog?"  said 
Dobbs. 

"  Yes,"  said  Joel. 

"They  couldn't  wait,  my  friend,"  observed 
Bingley  sarcastically,  "  for  people  of  such  tri- 
fling consequence,  as  you  and  I." 


JOBL.  311 

"  The  deuce  !  you  here,  Bingley  ?  "  exclaimed 
Dobbs,  in  his  natural  voice,  and  trying  to  get 
his  head  up. 

"Oh,  you  are  coming  to,  are  you?"  said 
Bingley  carelessly.  "  Well,  Dobbs,  I  think  you 
better  get  on  your  feet,  and  help  me  out,  since 
Pepper  won't ;  for  I  vow  I  can't  stir." 

"  Oh,  I'll  help  you,"  declared  Joel,  getting  up 
to  run  over  and  put  his  hands  under  Bingley's 
arms,  paling  as  he  exclaimed,  "  I  didn't  mean 
to  hurt  you  so,  Bingley,  on  my  honor  I  didn't." 

"And  you  didn't,"  said  Bingley,  wincing 
with  the  pain,  as  Joel  slowly  drew  him  to  his 
feet ;  "  it  wasn't  your  stinger  of  a  blow,  Pepper, 
but  some  of  those  dastardly  cads  stepped  all  over 
me ;  I  could  feel  them  hoofing  me.  There,  set 
me  in  that  chair,  and  I'll  draw  a  long  breath  if 
I  can." 

"  Now,  I  shall  go  for  a  doctor,"  declared 
Joel,  setting  Bingley  within  the  easy-chair,  and 
making  a  second  dash  for  the  door. 

"  I  tell  you,  you  will  not,"  cried  Bingley,  from 
his  chair.  "  Wait  a  minute,  till  I  see  where  I'm 
hurt.  I'm  coming  out  of  it  better  than  1 
thought.  Come  back,  Pepper." 


312  JOEL. 

"  Really?"  Joel  drew  off  from  the  door,  and 
looked  at  him. 

"  Yes ;  go  and  take  care  of  Dobbs ;  he  was  only 
shamming,"  said  Bingley,  leaning  his  head  com- 
fortably on  the  chair-back.  Dobbs  already  was 
on  his  feet,  and  slowly  standing  quite  straight. 

"  Sure  you  don't  want  any  help  ?  "  asked  Joel, 
putting  out  his  hand. 

"  Thanks,  no,"  said  Dobbs  scornfully,  not 
looking  at  the  hand,  but  making  for  the  door. 

"  Let  him  alone,  Pepper,"  advised  Bingley ; 
"a mean,  low-lived  chap  like  that  isn't  hurt; 
you  couldn't  kill  him,"  as  Joel  looked  out 
anxiously  to  watch  Dobbs'  progress  along  the 
hall,  at  last  following  him  along  a  bit. 

"  He's  in  his  own  room,  thank  fortune," 
exclaimed  Joel,  coming  back,  "  and  I  suppose  I 
can't  do  any  more.  But  oh,  I  do  wish,  Bingley, 
it  hadn't  happened." 

Joel  leaned  his  elbow  on  the  mantel,  and 
looked  down  at  the  easy-chair  and  its  occupant. 

"  Perhaps  you'd  rather  be  lying  there,"  said 
Bingley,  pointing  to  the  floor,  "  instead,  with  a 
flopper  under  your  ear,  like  the  nasty  one  you 
gave  me,  Pepper." 


JOEL.  313 

"  I  am  so  sorry  for  that,  too,"  cried  Joel,  in  a 
fresh  burst  of  remorse. 

"  I  got  no  more,  I  presume,  than  was  good 
for  me,"  said  Bingley,  feeling  the  bump  under 
his  ear.  "And  don't  you  worry,  Pepper,  for 
your  mind  must  be  toned  up  to  meet  those 
fellows.  They'll  be  at  some  neat  little  game  to 
pay  you  up  for  this,  you  may  rest  assured." 

"  I  suppose  so,"  said  Joel  indifferently. 
"  Well,  now  are  you  sure  I  can't  do  anything 
for  you,  Bingley  ?  " 

"  Sure  as  a  gun,"  said  Bingley  decidedly ; 
"  I'm  getting  quite  limbered  out ;  so  I'll  go, 
for  I  know  my  room  is  better  than  my  com- 
pany, Pepper,"  and  he  dragged  himself  stiffly 
out  of  his  chair. 

"  Don't  go,"  said  Joel  hospitably ;  "  stay  as 
long  as  you  want  to ;  I  should  be  glad  to  have 
you." 

Bingley  turned  a  pair  of  bright  eyes  on  him. 
"  Thank  you,"  he  said,  "  but  Davina  will  be  in 
soon,  and  things  will  have  to  be  explained  a 
little,  and  I'm  not  quite  up  to  it  to-night.  No, 
I  must  go,"  moving  to  the  door ;  "  I  don't 
feel  like  making  a  pretty  speech,  Pepper,"  he 


314  JOEL. 

said,  hesitating  a  bit,  "  or  I'd  express  something 
of  what's  on  my  mind.  But  I  think  you 
understand." 

"  If  you  want  to  do  me  a  favor,"  said  Joel 
steadily,  "  you'll  stop  calling  David,  Davina.  It 
makes  him  fearfully  mad,  and  I  don't  wonder." 

u  He's  so  pretty,"  said  Bingley,  with  a  smile, 
and  wincing  at  the  same  time,  "  we  can't  help 
it.  It's  a  pity  to  spoil  that  lovely  name." 

"  But  you  must,"  declared  Joel,  growing 
savage ;  "  I  tell  you,  it  just  ruins  college  life  for 
Dave,  and  he's  so  bright,  and  leads  his  class,  I 
don't  see  how  you  can." 

"  Oh,  we're  awfully  proud  of  him,"  said  Bing- 
ley, leaning  heavily  on  the  table, "  of  course,  and 
trot  him  out  behind  his  back  for  praises  and  all 
that,  but  when  it  comes  to  giving  up  that 
sweet  name  —  that's  another  thing,"  he  added 
regretfully.  "However,  I'll  do  it,  and  make 
the  other  fellows,  if  I  can." 

"Good  for  you!"  cried  Joel  gratefully. 
"Good-night,  Bingley;  sure  you  don't  want 
any  help  to  your  room  ?  " 

"  Sure,"  declared  Bingley,  going  out  unstead- 
ily and  shutting  the  door. 


JOEL.  315 

Joel  threw  himself  on  his  knees  by  the  side 
of  the  easy-chair,  and  burrowed  his  head  deep 
within  it.  "  Oh,  if  I  only  had  Mamsie's  lap  to 
lay  it  in,"  he  groaned,  "  and  Mamsie's  hands  to 
go  over  it." 

"  Joe  —  Joe  ! "  David  flung  wide  the  door, 
"  where  are  you  ?  "  he  cried. 

Joel  sprang  to  his  feet. 

"  Here's  a  telegram,"  said  David,  waving  a 
yellow  sheet  at  him.  "  I  just  met  the  boy 
bringing  it  up.  The  folks  were  going  to  see 
Jasper  —  on  a  surprise  party  ;  something  hap- 
pened to  the  cars,  and  Polly  has  her  arm  broken 
—  but  that's  all,"  delivered  David,  aghast  at 
Joel's  face. 

"  Polly  ?  oh,  not  Polly  ?  "  cried  Joel,  putting 
up  both  hands,  and  feeling  the  room  turn 
around  with  him. 

"  Yes,  Polly,"  said  David ;  "  don't  look  so, 
Joe,"  he  begged,  feeling  his  own  cheeks  getting 
white,  "  it's  only  broken  —  it  can't  be  bad,  for 
we  are  not  to  go,  Grandpapa  says ;  see,"  shaking 
the  telegram  at  him. 

"  But  I  shall  go  —  we  both  must,"  declared 
Joel  passionately,  beginning  to  rush  for  his  hat 


31 6  JOEL. 

behind  the  door ;  "  the  idea  —  Polly  hurt,  and 
we  not  to  go !  Come  on,  Dave,  we  can  catch 
the  midnight  train,"  looking  at  his  watch. 

"  But  if  it  makes  Polly  worse,"  said  David 
doubtfully. 

Joel's  hand  carrying  the  hat  to  his  head, 
wavered,  and  he  finally  tossed  the  head-gear 
into  the  nearest  corner.  "  I  suppose  yoir  are 
right,  Dave,"  he  said  helplessly,  and  sinking 
into  a  chair. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

THE    FARMHOUSE    HOSPITAL. 

TACK  LOUGHEAD  marched  into  his  uncle's 
fj  room.  "Well  —  well  —  well,"  exclaimed 
the  old  gentleman  with  a  prolonged  look,  and 
sitting  straight  in  his  chair.  "  So  this  really  is 
you,  Jack  ?  I  must  say,  I  am  surprised." 

"  Surprised  ?  "  echoed  Jack,  getting  his  un- 
cle's hands  in  both  of  his.  "  Why,  Uncle,  I 
cabled  Crane  Brothers  just  as  soon  as  I  got 
your  letter,  that  I  was  coming." 

"  This  is  the  first  thing  I've  heard  of  it,"  said 
old  Mr.  Loughead.  "  Well,  how  did  you  track 
me  here,  for  goodness'  sake?" 

"  Why,  I  saw  an  account  of  your  accident 
in  the  New  York  paper  as  soon  as  I  landed," 
said  Jack. 

"  Oh  !  confound  those  papers,"  exclaimed  his 
uncle  ungratefully.  "  Well,  I  came  near  being 
317 


318  THE    FARMHOUSE    HOSPITAL. 

done  for,  Jack,"  he  added.  "  In  fact,  I  was  left 
in  the  wreck." 

Jack  shuddered. 

"  But  that  little  girl  there,"  pointing  toward 
the  next  room,  where  the  talking  seemed  to  be 
going  on  busily,  "  insisted  that  I  was  buried  in 
the  smash-up,  so  they  tell  me,  and  she  made 
them  come  and  look  for  me.  None  too  soon, 
I  take  it,  by  all  accounts."  The  old  gentleman 
placidly  tore  off  two  or  three  grapes  from  the 
bunch  in  the  basketful,  put  at  his  elbow,  and 
ate  them  leisurely. 

"  Phronsie  is  a  good  child,"  said  Jack  Long- 
head, with  feeling,  "  and  an  observing  one,  too." 

"  Phronsie  ?  Who's  talking  of  Phronsie  ?  " 
cried  his  uncle,  pushing  back  the  fruit-basket. 
"  It  was  the  other  one  —  Polly ;  she  wouldn't 
let  them  give  over  till  they  pulled  me  out.  So 
the  two  young  men  tell  me ;  very  well-meaning 
chaps,  too,  they  are,  Jack." 

"  You  said  it  was  a  little  girl,"  Jack  managed 
to  remark. 

"  Well,  and  so  she  is,"  said  old  Mr.  Loughead 
obstinately, "  and  a  nice  little  thing,  too,  I  should 
say." 


THE    FARMHOUSE    HOSPITAL.  319 

"  Miss  Pepper  is  twenty  years  old,"  said  his 
nephew  suddenly.  Then  he  was  sorry  he  had 
spoken. 

"  Nonsense  !  not  a  day  over  fifteen,"  contra- 
dicted the  old  gentleman  flatly.  "  And  I  must 
say,  Jack,  you've  been  pretty  expert,  consider- 
ing the  time  spent  in  this  house,  in  taking  the 
census." 

"  Oh !  I  knew  her  before,"  said  Jack,  angry 
to  find  himself  stammering  over  what  ought  to 
be  a  simple  account  enough. 

"  Hem  —  hem  !  "  exclaimed  the  old  gentle- 
man, bestowing  a  keen  scrutiny  on  his  nephew. 
"  Well,  never  mind,"  he  said  at  last ;  "now,  let's 
to  business." 

"  Are  you  strong  enough  ?  "  asked  Jack,  in 
duty  bound,  yet  longing  to  get  the  talk  into 
safe  business  channels.  « 

"Strong  enough?"  repeated  the  old  gentle- 
man, in  a  dudgeon,  "  I'm  really  better  than  I 
was  before  the  shake-up.  I'm  going  home  to- 
morrow, I'd  have  you  to  know,  Jack." 

"  You  would  better  not  move  too  soon,"  said 
his  nephew  involuntarily.  Then  he  added  hast- 
ily, "  At  least,  take  the  doctor's  advice." 


320  THE    FARMHOUSE    HOSPITAL. 

"  Hem  —  hem  !  "  said  his  uncle  again,  with  a 
shrewd  smile,  as  he  helped  himself  to  a  second 
bunch  of  grapes. 

"  Well,  now,  as  to  that  matter  you  sent  me 
over  to  London  about,"  began  Jack,  nervously 
plunging  into  business. 

"  Draw  up  that  chair,  and  put  your  mind  on 
the  matter,  and  we'll  go  over  it,"  interrupted 
old  Mr.  Loughead,  discarding  the  grape-bunch 
suddenly,  and  assuming  his  commercial  expres- 
sion at  once. 

So  Jack  drew  up  his  chair,  as  bidden  ;  and 
presently  the  financial  head  of  the  Bradbury  & 
Graeme  Company,  and  the  enterprising  young 
member  who  was  the  principal  part  of  "  Com- 
pany," were  apparently  lost  to  all  else  in  the 
world,  but  their  own  concerns. 

Meantime,  Pickering  Dodge  was  having  a 
truly  dreadful  time  of  it. 

The  doctor,  washing  his  hands  of  such  a 
troublesome  patient,  had  just  run  downstairs, 
jumped  into  his  little  old  gig  in  displeasure,  and 
was  now  half  across  a  rut  worn  in  the  open 
meadow,  dignified  by  the  name  of  the  "  Short 
Road." 


THE    FARMHOUSE    HOSPITAL. 


321 


"Do  go  to  bed,"  implored  Ben,  studying 
Pickering's  pale  face. 

"  Hoh,  hoh ! "  Pickering  made  out  to  exclaim, 
"  if  I  couldn't  say  anything  original,  I  wouldn't 


"  I'LL  HELP  YOU  ;  I'M  STRONG,"  SAII>  CHAKLOTTE. 

talk.  You're  only  an  echo  to  that  miserable 
little  donkey  of  a  medical  man." 

"  But  you  really  ought  to  go  back  to  bed," 
Ben  insisted. 

"  Really  ought  ?  "  repeated  Pickering,  in  high 


322  THE    FARMHOUSE    HOSPITAL. 

disdain  ;  "  as  if  I'd  put  myself  again  under  that 
quack's  thumb.  No,  sir  ! "  and  snapping  his 
fingers  derisively  at  Ben,  he  straightened  up 
jauntily  on  his  somewhat  uncertain  feet.  "  All 
I  want  is  a  little  air,"  stumbling  off  to  the 
window." 

"  Well,  I'm  going  to  tell  Phronsie  that  my 
arm  is  all  right,"  said  Polly,  hurrying  off;  "be- 
side I  want  to  see  Johnny  " 

"  It's  time  for  me  to  look  after  that  young 
man,  too,"  said  old  Mr.  King,  following  her ; 
"  I  haven't  heard  him  roar  to-day.  Come  on, 
Jasper  ;  you  must  see  Johnny." 

As  they  disappeared,  Ben  ran  over  to  Picker- 
ing, and  was  aghast  to  find  that  the  face  laid 
against  the  window- casing  was  deathly  white, 
and  that  all  his  shaking  of  the  broad  shoulders 
could  not  make  Pickering  open  his  eyes. 

"  Jasper,"  called  Ben,  in  despair. 

"  Hush  !  "  Some  one  came  hurrying  up. 
"  Don't  call  Jasper ;  then  Polly  will  know. 
Let  me  help." 

Ben  looked  up.  "O,  Charlotte  !  that's  good. 
Pick's  done  up.  Call  Mrs.  Higby,  will  you? 
we  must  get  him  to  bed." 


THE    FARMHOUSE    HOSPITAL.  323 

« I'll  help  you  ;  I'm  strong."  Charlotte  held 
out  her  long  arms. 

Ben  looked  them  over  approvingly.  "  You're 
right,"  he  said ;  "  it's  better  not  to  stir  Mrs. 
Higby  up.  There,  easy  now,  Charlotte  ;  put 
your  hands  under  there.  You  are  sure  it  won't 
hurt  you  ?  " 

"  Sure  as  I  can  be,"  said  Charlotte,  steadily 
moving  off  in  pace  with  Ben,  as  they  carried 
Pickering  between  them. 

"  Excuse  me  !  "  Ben  rushed  in  without 
knocking  upon  the  Bradbury  &  Graeme  Com- 
pany. "  Do  you  mind  "  —  to  Jack  —  «  I'm 
awfully  sorry  to  ask  it,  but  I  can't  leave  him. 
Will  you  run  to  the  doctor's  and  fetch  him? 
Mrs.  Higby,  the  landlady  downstairs,  you  know, 
will  tell  you  where  to  find  him."  Ben  was  all 
out  of  breath  when  he  got  through,  and  stood 
looking  at  young  Loughead. 

"  What's  the  doctor  wanted  for  ?  "  cried  Com- 
pany,  springing  to  his  feet,  and  seizing  his  hat 
from  the  table.  "  Why,  of  course  I'll  go  - —  de- 
lighted to  be  of  use  —  who  for  ?  " 

"  Pickering  Dodge  —  got  up  too  soon  — 
keeled  over,"  said  Ben  briefly.  "I've  got  to 


324  THE    FARMHOUSE    HOSPITAL. 

stay  with  him  —  he's  in  bed  —  and  we  don't 
want  Grandpapa  or  Polly  to  know." 

But  Jack  Loughead  after  the  first  word,  was 
half  over  the  stairs. 

"  See  here,"  cried  old  Mr.  Longhead  sud- 
denly, as  Ben  was  rushing  out,  "  can't  I  see 
your  sister  ?  I'm  horribly  lonesome,"  turning 
in  his  chair ;  "  that  is,  if  her  arm  will  let  her 
come,"  he  added,  as  a  second  thought  struck 
him.  "Don't  ask  her  if  you  think  she's  in 
pain." 

"  Doctor  has  fixed  Polly's  arm,"  said  Ben, 
"  and  I  know  she'll  like  to  come  in  and  sit  with 
you.  It's  a  shame,"  and  his  honest  face  flamed 
with  regret,  "  I  had  to  ask  such  a  favor  as  " 

"  Tut,  tut !  go  along  with  you,"  commanded 
the  old  gentleman  imperatively,  "  and  send 
Polly  here ;  then  I'll  make  by  the  operation," 
and  he  began  to  chuckle  with  pleasure. 

So  Ben  ran  off,  and  presently  Polly,  her  arm 
in  a  sling,  came  hurrying  in. 

"Bless  my  soul,"  cried  the  old  gentleman, 
"  if  your  cheeks  aren't  as  rosy  as  if  you  had  two 
good  arms,  and  this  was  an  every-day  sort  of 
excursion  for  pleasure." 


THE    FARMHOUSE    HOSPITAL.  327 

"  It's  so  nice,"  said  Polly,  sitting  down  on  one 
of  Mrs.  Higby's  spare-room  ottomans,  on  which 
that  lady  had  worked  a  remarkable  cat  in  blue 
worsted  reposing  on  a  bit  of  green  sward,  "  to 
think  that  everybody  is  getting  on  so  well,"  and 
she  hugged  her  lame  arm  rapturously. 

"  Hem  —  hem  !  I  should  say  so,"  breathed  old 
Mr.  Longhead,  regarding  her  closely.  "  Where 
have  they  buried  that  woman  ?  "  he  demanded 
suddenly. 

Polly  started.  "  Out  in  the  meadow,"  she 
said  softly.  "  Mrs.  Higby  wanted  it  here  instead 
of  in  the  churchyard.  It  is  under  a  beautiful 
oak-tree,  Mr.  Loughead,  and  Mr.  Higby  is  going 
to  make  a  fence  around  it,  and  Grandpapa  is  to 
put "  - 

"  Up  the  stone,  I  suppose  you  mean,"  inter- 
rupted the  old  gentleman.  "•  Well,  and  when 
that's  done,  why,  what  can  be  said  upon  it,  pray 
tell?  You  don't  know  a  thing  about  it  —  who 
in  Christendom  the  woman  was  —  not  a  thing." 

"  Johnny's  mother,"  said  Polly  sorrowfully, 
the  corners  of  her  mouth  drooping  ;  "  that's  go- 
ing to  be  on  it,  and  Grandpapa  is  to  have  the 
letters  cut,  telling  about  the  accident ;  and  Mrs. 


328  THE    FARMHOUSE    HOSPITAL. 

Higby  hopes  that  sometime  somebody  will  come 
to  inquire  about  it.  But  I  don't  believe  anybody 
ever  will  come  in  all  this  world,"  added  Polly 
softly,  "  because  there  is  no  one  left  who  belongs 
to  Johnny,"  and  she  told  the  story  the  pale  little 
mother  had  just  finished  when  the  car  went  over. 

Old  Mr.  Loughead  "  hemmed,"  and  exclaimed 
impatiently,  and  fidgeted  in  his  chair,  all  through 
the  recital.  When  it  was  over,  and  Polly  sat 
quite  still,  "  What  are  you  going  to  do  with  that 
horrible  boy  ?  "  he  asked  sharply.  "  Almshouse, 
I  suppose,  eh  ?  " 

"  O,  no ! "  declared  Polly,  in  horror.  "  Phron- 
sie  is  going  to  take  him  into  the  Home." 

"  Phronsie  is  going  to  take  that  little  rat  into 
her  home  ?  "  cried  old  Mr.  Loughead  in  disgust. 
"  You  don't  know  what  you  are  talking  of.  I 
shall  speak  to  Mr.  King." 

"  Johnny  is  just  a  dear,"  cried  Polly,  having 
great  difficulty  not  to  spring  from  her  chair,  and 
turn  her  back  on  the  old  gentleman,  then  and 
there. 

"But  into  your  home,"  repeated  old  Mr. 
Loughead,  his  disgust  gaining  on  him  with  each 
word  ;  "  it's  monstrous  —  it's  "  — 


THE    FARMHOUSE    HOSPITAL.  329 

"  Oh !  I  didn't  mean  our  home,"  explained 
Polly,  obliged  to  interrupt  him,  he  was  becom- 
ing so  furious.  "  Johnny  is  going  down  to  Dun- 
raven,  to  the  Children's  Home,"  and  then  she 
began  on  the  story  of  Phronsie's  company  of 
children,  and  how  they  lived,  and  who  they 
were,  with  many  little  side  stories  of  this  small 
creature,  who  was  "too  cunning  for  anything," 
and  that  funny  little  boy,  till  the  old  gentleman 
sat  helplessly  listening  in  abject  silence.  And 
the  latch  was  lifted,  and  young  Mr.  Longhead 
put  his  head  in  the  doorway,  looking  as  if  he 
had  finished  a  long  tramp. 

"  Come  in,  Jack,"  said  his  uncle,  finding  his 
tongue.  "  We've  a  whole  orphan  asylum  in 
here,  and  I  don't  know  what  all ;  every  char- 
ity you  ever  heard  of,  rolled  into  one.  Do 
come  in,  and  see  if  you  can  make  head  or  tail 
to  it." 

u  Oh !  Mr.  Loughead  knows  all  about  it," 
cried  Polly  brightly,  while  her  cheeks  glowed, 
"  for  he  went  down  to  Dunraven  with  us  at 
Christmas,  and  he  showed  the  children  stere- 
opticon  pictures,  and  told  them  such  nice  sto- 
ries of  places  that  he  had  seen." 


330  THE    FARMHOUSE    HOSPITAL. 

"  He  —  my  Jack  !  "  exploded  the  old  gen- 
tleman, starting  forward  and  poiifting  to  his 
nephew.  "  Great  Caesar  !  he  never  did  such  a 
thing  in  his  life." 

"Ah  !  "  said  Polly,  shaking  her  brown  head, 
while  she  looked  only  at  the  old  gentleman, 
"you  ought  to  have  seen,  sir,  how  happy  the 
children  were  that  day." 

"  My  Jack  went  to  an  orphan  asylum  to  show 
pictures  to  the  children ! "  reiterated  the  old 
gentleman,  unable  to  grasp  another  idea. 

"  Do  be  still,  Uncle,"  begged  his  tall  nephew, 
jogging  his  elbow. 

"  Here  —  here's  Polly !  "  cried  Jasper's  voice. 
And  at  the  same  moment  in  sped  little  Dr. 
Fisher,  his  glasses  shining  with  determination, 
as  he  gazed  all  over  the  room  for  Polly. 

"  My  dear,  dear  child,"  he  cried,  as  he  spied 
her. 

And  "  Papa  Fisher ! "  joyfully  from  Polly,  as 
she  sprang  from  Mrs.  Higby's  ottoman,  and  pre- 
cipitated herself  into  the  little  doctor's  arms. 

"Softly,  softly,  child,"  he  warned ;  "you'll 
hurt  it,"  tenderly  covering  the  poor  arm  with 
his  right  hand,  while  he  fumbled  in  his  pocket 


THE    FARMHOUSE    HOSPITAL.  331 

with  the  other,  for  his  handkerchief.  "  Dear 
me ! "  and  he  blew  his  nose  violently.  "  Yes ; 
well,  you're  sure  you're  all  right  except  this  V  " 
and  he  held  Polly  at  arm's  length  and  scanned 
her  closely. 

"  1  am  all  right  if  you  will  only  tell  me  that 
Mamsie  is  well,  and  isn't  worried  about  us,"  said 
Polly,  an  anxious  little  pucker  coming  on  her 
forehead. 

"  Your  mother  is  as  bright  as  a  button,"  de- 
clared Father  Fisher  emphatically. 

"  Come,  come!  "  ejaculated  Mr.  King,  appear- 
ing in  the  doorway;  "  this  isn't  just  the  way  to 
take  possession  of  Mr.  Loughead's  apartment. 
Jasper,  1  don't  see  what  you  were  thinking  of. 
Come,  Fisher,  my  room  is  next ;  this  way." 

Polly  blushed  red  as  a  rose  as  old  Mr.  Loug- 
head  said  briskly,  "  Oh  !  I  sent  for  her  to  cheer 
me  up,  and  now,  1  wish  you'd  all  stay." 

"  Beg  pardon  for  this  inroad,"  said  little  Doc- 
tor Fisher,  going  up  to  the  old  gentleman's  chair 
and  offering  his  hand.  "Well,  well,  Loug- 
head,"  to  Jack,  "this  is  a  surprise  party  all 
round ! " 

"  No  inroad  at  all,  at  least  a  pleasant  one," 


332  THE    FARMHOUSE    HOSPITAL. 

old  Mr.  Loughead  kept  saying,  while  Polly  ran 
up  to  Jasper : 

"  Did  Pickering's  uncle  come  with  Papa 
Fisher  ?  " 

"No,"  said  Jasper,  with  his  eyes  on  Jack 
Loughead,  "  the  Doctor  was  all  alone,  Polly." 

And  then  the  door  of  Pickering's  room 
opened,  and  out  came  Dr.  Bryce,  with  bad 
news  written  all  over  his  face. 

"  I  fear  brain  fever,"  he  said  to  Dr. 
Fisher  after  the  introduction  was  over,  making 
the  two  physicians  acquainted.  "  Come,"  and 
the  door  of  Pickering's  room  closed  on  them 
both. 

And  twilight  settled  down  on  the  old  square 
white  house,  and  on  the  new-made  grave  under 
the  oak  in  the  meadow  ;  and  Brierly  people,  by 
twos  and  threes,  came  to  inquire  for  "  the  sick 
young  man,"  going  away  with  saddened  faces. 
And  a  messenger  from  the  telegraph  office  drove 
up  just  as  Mr.  Higby  was  pulling  on  the  boots 
to  his  tired  feet  for  a  long  walk  to  the  village, 
handing  in  the  message : 

Mrs.  Cabot  and  I  will  take  the  midnight  train. 

RICHARD  A.  CABOT. 


THE    FARMHOUSE    HOSPITAL.  385 

And  then  there  was  nothing  more  to  do,  only 
to  wait  for  the  coming  of  Pickering's  uncle  and 
aunt. 

And  the  next  day  Pickering's  calls  were  in- 
cessant for  "  Polly,  Polly,"  sometimes  upbraid- 
ing her  as  the  brown  eyes  were  fastened  pite- 
ously  on  his  wild  face ;  and  then  begging  her 
to  just  smile  at  him  and  remember  how  he  had 
loved  her  all  these  years.  "  And  now  I  am  go- 
ing to  die,1'  he  would  cry. 

"  O,  Polly  !  Polly  !  "  Mrs.  Cabot  would  wring 
her  hands  and  beg  at  such  times,  a  world  of  en- 
treaty in  her  voice.  And  then  old  Mr.  King 
would  interfere,  carrying  Polly  off,  and  declar- 
ing it  was  beyond  all  reason  for  her  to  be  so 
annoyed. 

And  Phronsie  would  climb  up  on  the  bed  and 
lay  her  cool  little  hand  gently  on  the  hot  fore- 
head. Then  the  sick  boy's  cries  would  drop 
into  unintelligible  murmurs,  while  his  fingers 
picked  aimlessly  at  the  coverlet. 

"  There !  he  is  better,"  Phronsie  would  say 
softly  to  the  watchers  by  the  befl,  "  and  I  guess 
he  is  going  to  sleep." 

But  the  quiet  only  ushered  in  worse  ravings 


836  THE    FARMHOUSE    HOSPITAL. 

when  Pickering  lived  over  once  more  the  hor- 
ror of  the  train-wrecking,  and  then  it  took  many 
strong  arms  to  hold  him  in  his  bed.  "  Come  on, 
Ben,"  he  would  shout,  struggling  hard ;  "  leave 
him  alone  —  we  shall  be  caught  —  the  fire  !  the 
fire ! "  until  his  strength  died  away,  and  he  sank 
to  a  deathly  stupor. 

Phronsie  sat  down  to  write  a  letter  to  Mrs. 
Fargo.  One  like  it  was  dropped  every  morn- 
ing into  the  basket  set  on  Mrs.  Higby's  front 
entry  table,  ready  for  the  neighbor's  boy  to  take 
to  the  village  post-office. 

DEAR  MRS.  FARGO  : 

[wrote  Phronsie,  looking  on"  from  the  wooden  cradle 
that  Mrs.  Higby  had  dragged  down  from  its  cobwebby 
corner  under  the  garret  eaves,  with  the  remark,  ••  i 
guess  Johnny  '11  sleep  well;  all  the  Higbys  since  the 
tirst  one,  has  been  rocked  in  it."]  I  must  tell  you 
that  dear  Pickering  isn't  any  better.  [Then  she 
glanced  back  again,  and  softly  jogged  the  cradle,  as 
Johnny  turned  over  with  a  Ion*  sigh  ]  And  Papa 
Fisher  and  the  other  doctor  don't  think  he  is  going 
to  get  well.  And  Mrs.  Cabot  cries  all  the  time,  and 
Polly  cries  sometimes  too.  And  we  don't  know  what 
to  do.  But  I  guess  God  will  take  care  of  us.  And 
Charlotte  is  going  to  take  Johnny  down  to  the  Dun- 
raven  Home  in  a  day  or  two.  She  says  she  can,  though 
I  know  she  don't  like  babies,  especially  boy-babies; 


THE    FARMHOUSE    HOSPITAL.  837 

she  said  so  once.  And  so  he  will  be  happy.  And 
that's  all  I  can  write  to-day,  Mrs.  Fargo,  because  every 
minute  I'm  afraid  Polly  will  want  me. 

FROM  PHRONSIK. 

And  just  the  very  minute  when  Phronsie  was 
dotting  the  "  i  "  in  her  name,  Mrs.  Higby  came 
toiling  up  the  stairs,  holding  her  gingham  gown 
well  away  from  her  feet. 

"Say!"  she  cried  in  a  loud  whisper,  and 
pausing  midway  to  wave  a  large  square  en- 
velope at  Phronsie,  curled  up  on  the  hall 
window-seat. 

Phronsie  got  down  very  softly,  and  tiptoed 
over  to  the  stair-railing  to  grasp  the  letter  Mrs. 
Higby  thrust  between  the  bars,  going  back  to 
her  old  post,  to  open  it  carefully. 

DEAR  PHRONSIE  : 

I  think  God  meant  that  I  was  to  have  Johnny  for 
my  very  own.  So  won't  you  give  him  to  me,  dear  ? 
Let  Charlotte  bring  him  soon,  please,  for  my  heart  is 
hungry  for  a  baby  to  hold.  I  will  make  him  happy 
all  my  life,  Phronsie,  so  I  know  you  will  give  him  to 

HKLEN'S  MOTHER. 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

ON    THE    BORDERLAND. 

PHRONSIE  came  into  the  Higby  kitchen, 
her  hands  full  of  wind-blossoms  and  nod- 
ding trilliums. 

"  Pickering  will  like  these,"  she  said  to  her- 
self in  great  satisfaction,  and  surveying  her  torn 
frock  with  composure,  *'  for  they  are  the  very 
first,  Mrs.  Higby,"  addressing  that  individual 
standing  over  by  the  sink  in  the  corner.  "  Please 
may  T  wash  my  hands  ?  T  had  to  go  clear  far 
down  by  the  brook  to  get  them." 

But  Mrs.  Higby,  instead  of  answering,  threw 
her  brown-checked  apron  high  over  her  head. 

Phronsie  stood  quite  still. 

"Why  do  you  put  your  apron  there,  Mrs. 
Higby?"  she  asked  at  last.  "  And  you  do  not 
answer  me  at  all,"  she  added  in  gentle  reproach. 

"  Land ! "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Higby,  in  a  voice 
338 


ON    THE    BORDERLAND.  339 

spent  with  feeling,  "  T  couldn't,  'cause  I  was 
afraid  I  shVl  burst  out  crying,  and  I  didn't 
want  you  to  see  my  face.  O,  dear !  he's  had 
a  poor  spell  since  you  went  out  flowerin'  for 
him,  and  your  pa  and  Dr.  Bryce  say  he's  dyin'. 
O,  dear !  " 

Down  came  the  apron,  showing  Mrs.  Higby's 
eyelids  very  red  and  swollen. 

Phronsie  still  stood  holding  her  flowers,  a 
breathing-space,  then  turned  and  went  quickly 
to  the  back  stairs. 

"  Sh !  don't  go,"  called  Mrs.  Higby  in  a  loud 
whisper  after  her  ;  "  it's  dreadful  for  a  little  girl 
like  you  to  see  any  one  die.  Do  come  back." 

"They  will  want  me,"  said  Phronsie  gravely, 
and  going  up  carefully  without  another  word. 
When  she  reached  Pickering's  door,  she  paused 
a  moment  and  looked  in. 

"  T  don't  believe  it  is  as  Mrs.  Higby  said,"  she 
thought,  drawing  a  long  breath,  a  faint  smile 
coming  to  her  face  as  she  went  gently  in. 

"But  old  Mr.  King  put  up  his  hand  as  he 
turned  in  his  chair,  at  the  foot  of  the  bed,  and 
Phronsie  saw  that  his  face  was  white  and 
drawn.  And  Dr.  Bryce  turned  also,  looking 


ON    THE    BORDKRI.AND. 


off   a  minute    from  the    watch    that  he    held, 
as   if   he    were   going    to   bid    her   go    away. 


"WHY  DO  YOU  PUT  YOUK  APKON  UP  THERE?"   ASKED 
PHRONSIK  IS  GENTLE  REPROACH. 

"  Phronsie,"  said  Grandpapa,  holding  out  both 
arms  hungrily. 

Phronsie  hurried  to  him,  a  gathering  fear  at 


ON    THE    BORDERLAND.  341 

her  heart,  and  getting  into  his  lap,  laid  her  cheek 
against  his. 

"  Oh  !  my  dear,  you  oughtn't  to  be  here — you 
are  too  young,"  said  Mr.  King  brokenly,  yet 
holding  her  close. 

"  I  am  not  afraid,  Grandpapa,"  said  Phronsie, 
her  mouth  to  his  ear,  "  and  I  think  Pickering 
would  like  me  to  be  here.  I  brought  him  some 
flowers."  She  moved  the  hand  holding  the 
bunch,  so  that  the  old  gentleman  could  see  it. 
"  He  likes  wild  flowers,  and  I  promised  to  get 
the  first  ones  I  could." 

"  O,  dear ! "  groaned  old  Mr.  King,  not  trust- 
ing himself  to  look. 

"  May  I  lay  them  down  by  him  ?  "  whispered 
Phronsie. 

"  Yes,  yes,  child,"  said  the  old  gentleman, 
allowing  her  to  slip  to  the  floor.  The  group 
around  the  bedside  parted  to  let  her  pass,  and 
then  Phronsie  saw  Polly.  Mrs.  Cabot  was  hold- 
ing Polly's  well  hand,  while  her  head  was  on 
Polly's  shoulder. 

"Grandpapa  said  I  might,"  said  Phronsie 
softly  to  the  two,  and  pointing  to  her  flowers. 

"  Yes,  dear." 


342  ON    THE    BORDERLAND. 

It  was  Polly  who  answered ;  Mrs.  Cabot 
was  crying  so  hard  she  could  not  speak  a  word. 

Phronsie's  little  heart  seemed  to  stop  beating 
as  she  reached  the  bedside.  She  had  not  thought 
that  she  would  be  afraid,  but  it  was  so  different 
to  be  standing  there  looking  down  upon  the  pil- 
low where  Pickering  lay  so  still  and  white,  and 
with  closed  eyes,  looking  as  if  he  had  already 
gone  away  from  them.  She  glanced  up  in  a 
startled  way  and  saw  Dr.  Fisher  at  the  head 
of  the  bed ;  he  was  holding  Pickering's  wrist. 
"  Yes,"  he  motioned,  "  put  them  down." 

So  Phronsie  laid  down  her  blossoms  near  the 
poor  white  face,  and  stole  back  quickly,  only 
breathing  freely  when  she  was  as  close  to  Polly 
as  she  could  creep,  without  hurting  the  broken 
arm. 

"  I'm  dying  —  I'm  not  afraid,"  suddenly  said 
Pickering's  white  lips.  Dr.  Fisher  sprang  and 
put  a  spoonful  of  stimulant  to  them,  while  Mrs. 
Cabot  buried  her  face  yet  deeper  on  Polly's 
shoulder,  her  husband  turning  on  his  heel,  to 
pace  the  floor  and  groan.  "Polly,  Polly!" 
called  Pickering  quite  distinctly,  in  a  tone  of 
anguish. 


ON  THE  BORDERLAND.         343 

"0,  Polly,  Polly!  he's  dying  —  go  to  him 
do !  "  Mrs.  Cabot  tore  her  hand  out  of  Polly's, 
almost  pushing  her  from  the  chair.  "  Quick, 
dear ! " 

Polly  put  Phronsie  aside,  and  stepped  softly 
to  the  bedside ;  Pickering's  eyes  eagerly  watched 
for  her  face. 

He  smiled  up  at  her,  "  Polly,"  and  tried  to 
raise  his  hand. 

She  laid  her  warm,  soft  palm  on  the  cold  one 
lying  on  the  coverlid.  He  clasped  his  thin  fin- 
gers convulsively  around  it. 

"  I  am  here,  Pickering,"  said  Polly,  unable  to 
find  voice  for  anything  else. 

"Don't  —  ever — leave  me,"  she  could  just 
make  out  the  words,  bending  close  to  catch 
them. 

"  I  never  will,"  said  Polly  quietly. 

A  sudden  gleam  came  into  his  face,  and  he 
tried  to  smile,  grasping  her  hand  tighter  as  his 
eyes  closed. 

"  It  has  come,"  said  Dr.  Fisher  in  a  low  voice 
to  Mr.  Cabot ;  "  tell  your  wife,"  and  he  bent  a 
professional  ear  over  tlBte  white  face  on  the  pil- 
low, while  Dr.  Bryce  hurried  forward ;  then 


344  ON    THE    BORDERLAND. 

brought  his  head  up  quickly,  a  peculiar  light  in 
the  sharp  eyes  back  of  the  spectacles. 
"  He  is  sleeping  !  " 

Polly  was  sitting,  a  half-hour  by  the  bedside, 
Pickering's  thin  fingers  still  tightly  grasping  her 
hand.  They  had  made  her  comfortable  in  an 
easy  chair,  Jasper  bringing  one  of  Mrs.  Higby's 
biggest  cushions  for  her  to  lean  her  head  against. 
He  now  stood  at  the  side  of  her  chair,  Phronsie 
curled  up  on  the  floor  at  her  feet. 

"Don't  stay."  Polly's  lips  seemed  to  frame 
the  words  rather  than  speak  them,  looking  up 
at  him. 

He  shook  his  head,  resting  his  hand  on  the 
back  of  the  chair.  Polly  tried  to  smile  up  a  bit 
of  comfort  into  his  eyes.  "  Jasper  loved  Pick- 
ering so,"  she  said  to  herself,  "that  he  cannot 
leave  him  ;  but  oh  !  he-  looks  so  dreadfully,  I 
wish  he  would  go  and  rest,"  and  she  began  to 
have  a  worried  look  at  once. 

"  What  is  it  ? "  asked  Jasper,  catching  the 
look  at  once,  and  bending  to  whisper  in  her  ear. 

"  You  will  be  sick  if  4^ou  do  not  go  and  rest," 
whispered  back  Polly. 


ON    THE    BORDERLAND.  345 

"  I  cannot  —  don't  ask  it."  Jasper  brought 
the  words  out  sharply,  with  just  a  bitter  tone 
to  them. 

"  He  thinks  it  is  strange  that  I  ask  it ;  he  is 
so  fond  of  Pickering,"  said  Polly  to  herself. 
"  And  now  I  have  grieved  him  —  O,  dear !  " 

"  I  won't  leave  Pickering,"  she  said,  lifting 
her  brown  eyes  quickly. 

A  spasm  came  over  Jasper's  face,  and  his 
brow  contracted. 

"  Don't,"  he  begged,  and  Polly  could  feel  that 
the  hand  resting  on  the  back  of  the  chair  grasped 
it  so  tightly  that  it  shook  beneath  her. 

"  I  ought  to  have  remembered  that  Jasper 
couldn't  leave  him  ;  he  loves  him  so,"  mourned 
Polly.  "  Oh !  why  did  I  speak  ?  " 

In  the  room  at  the  end  of  the  hall  Mrs. 
Cabot  was  excitedly  walking  the  floor,  twist- 

• 

ing  her  handkerchief  between  her  nervous 
fingers,  and  talking  unrestrainedly  to  Charlotte 
Chatterton. 

"  I  do  believe  this  will  melt  Polly's  heart," 
she  cried.  "  Oh  !  it  must,  it  must !  Don't  you 
think  it  must,  Miss  Chatterton  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  mean,"  said  Char- 


346  ON    THE    BORDERLAND. 

lotte  Chatterton  in  a  collected  manner,  as  she 
bent  over  the  cradle  to  tuck  the  shawl  over 
Johnny's  legs  where  he  had  kicked  it  off  in  his 
sleep. 

"  Oh !  you  know  quite  well  what  I  mean, 
Miss  Chatterton,"  declared  Mrs.  Cabot,  in  her 
distress  losing  her  habitually  polite  manner. 
"  Why,  everybody  knows  that  Pickering  has 
loved  Polly  since  they  were  boy  and  girl 
together." 

Not  knowing  what  was  expected  of  her, 
Charlotte  Chatterton  wisely  kept  silent. 

"And  now,  why,  it's  just  a  Providence,  I  do 
believe  —  that  is,  if  he  gets  well  —  that  brought 
all  this  about,  for  of  course  Polly  must  be 
touched  by  it.  She  must ! "  brought  up  Mrs. 
Cabot  quite  jubilantly. 

And  this  tinve  she  waited  for  Charlotte  to 

• 
speak,  at  last  exclaiming,  "  Don't  you  see  it 

must  be  so?" 

"  I  think  love  goes  where  it  is  sent,"  said 
Charlotte  slowly. 

"Sent?  Well,  that  is  just  it.  Isn't  it  sent 
here  ?  "  cried  Mrs.  Cabot  impatiently. 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Charlotte.     Then  she 


ON    THE    BORDERLAND.  347 

said  distinctly,  "  I  know  love  is  very  different 
from  pity  " 

"  Of  course  it  is  —  but  then,  sometimes  it 
isn't,"  said  Mrs.  Cabot  nervously.  "  Well,  any 
way,  Polly  has  almost  as  good  as  promised  to 
marry  Pickering,"  she  finished  triumphantly  — 
"  so  —  and  you  are  very  cruel  to  talk  to  me  in 
this  way,  Miss  Chatterton." 

Charlotte  Chatterton  turned  away  from 
Johnny  and  faced  Mrs.  Cabot.  "You  don't 
mean  to  say  you  think  Polly  would  feel  bound 
by  Avhat  she  said  when  we  all  thought  he  was 
dying?" 

"  I  do,  certainly  —  knowing  Polly  as  I  do  — 
if  Pickering  took  it  so.     And  I  am  quite  sure  he 
will  say  so  when  he  gets  well ;  quite  sure.     Polly 
isn't  a  girl  to  break  her  word,"  added  Mrs.  Cabot 
confidently. 

"Then  I'm  sure  Providence  hasn't  had  any- 
thing to  do  with  this,"  said  Charlotte  shortly, 
"  and  Polly  shall  never  be  tormented  into  think- 
ing it  her  duty  either,"  and  she  turned  off 
to  pick  up  a  new  gown  "  in  the  works "  for 
Johnny. 

"  What   you    think    duty,   Miss    Chatterton, 


348  ON    THE    BORDERLAND. 

wouldn't  be  Polly  Pepper's  idea  of  duty  in  the 
least,"  said  Mrs.  Cabot,  getting  back  into  the 
refuge  of  her  society  manner  again,  now  that 
her  confidence  in  Polly  grew  every  moment, 
"so  we  will  talk  no  more  about  it  if  you 
please,"  she  added  icily,  as  she  went  toward  the 
door.  "  Only  mark  my  words,  my  dear  boy  and 

that  dear  girl  will  be  engaged,  and  quite  the 

• 

appropriate  match  it  will  be  too,  and  please 
every  one." 

"  You  must  go  back,  my  boy,"  said  old  Mr. 
King  two  days  later.  "  It's  just  knocking  you  up 
to  stay,"  studying  Jasper's  face  keenly.  "  Good- 
ness me !  I  should  think  you'd  fallen  off  a  dozen 
pounds.  Upon  my  word  I  should,  my  boy,"  he 
repeated  with  great  concern. 

"Never  mind  me,  father,"  said  Jasper  a  trifle 

impatiently,  "  and  as  to  my  work,  Mr.  Marlowe 

will  give  me  a  few  more  days.     He's  goodness 

itself.     I  shall  telegraph  him  this  morning  for 

'an  extension." 

"  You  will  do  nothing  of  the  kind,"  declared 
Mr.  King  testily.  "What  can  you  do  here, 
pray  tell,  by  staying  ?  You  would  be  quite  a 


ON    THE    BORDERLAND.  349 

muff  in  a  few  more  days,  Jasper,"  he  added, 
"you  are  so  down-hearted  now.  No,  I  insist 
that  you  go  now." 

"  Very  well,"  said  Jasper  quite  stiffly,  "  I  will 
take  myself  off  by  the  afternoon  train,  then, 
father,  since  I  am  in  the  way." 

"  How  you  talk,  Jasper !  "  cried  his  father  in 
astonishment.  "  You  know  quite  well  that  1 
am  only  thinking  of  your  own  good.  What's 
got  into  you  — •  but  I  suppose  this  confounded 
hospital  we're  in,  has  made  you  lose  your  head." 

"  Thank  you,  father,"  said  Jasper,  recovering 
himself  by  a  great  effort,  "  for  putting  it  so,  and 
I  beg  you  to  forgive  me  for  my  hasty  words." 
He  came  up  to  the  old  gentleman  and  put  out 
his  hand  quickly,  "  Do  forgive  me,  father." 

"  Forgive  you  ?  Of  course  I  will,  though  I 
don't  know  when  you've  spoken  to  me  like  that, 
Jasper,"  said  his  father,  not  yet  able  to  shake 
himself  free  from  his  bewilderment.  "  Well, 
well,  that's  enough»to  say  about  that,"  seeing 
Jasper's  face,  "  and  now  get  back  to  your  work, 
my  boy,  as  soon  as  you  can,  and  you'll  thank 
me  for  sending  you  off.  And  as  soon  as  Pick- 
ering Dodge  is  able  to  be  moved  home,  why, 


350  ON    THE    BORDERLAND. 

the  rest  of  us  will  finish  our  trip,  and  give  you 
that  surprise  party  —  eh,  Jasper?"  and  Mr.  King 
tried  to  laugh  in  the  old  way,  but  it  was  pretty 
hard  work. 

"  Well,  now,  Polly,"  said  Dr.  Fisher,  a  week 
after  as  he  held  her  at  arm's  length,  and  brought 
his  spectacles  to  bear  upon  her  face,  "  remember 
what  I  say,  child  ;  you  are  to  take  care  of  your- 
self, and  let  Mrs.  Cabot  look  out  for  things.  It 
will  do  the  woman  good  to  have  something  to 
do,"  he  added,  dropping  his  voice.  "  I  don't 
like  to  carry  home  your  face,  child  ;  it  won't  do ; 
you're  getting  tired  out,  and  your  mother  will 
be  sure  to  find  it  out.  I  really  ought  to  stay 
and  take  care  of  you,"  and  the  little  doctor  be- 
gan to  look  troubled  at  once. 

"  Indeed,  Papa  Fisher,"  cried  Polly,  brighten- 
ing up,  "  you  will  do  nothing  of  the  kind.  Why, 
my  arm  is  doing  famously.  You  know  you  said 
you  never  saw  a  broken  arm  behave  so  well  in 
all  your  life." 

"  It  isn't  your  arm,  Polly,  that  worries  me,"  said 
Father  Fisher ;  "  that's  first-rate,  and  I  shouldn't 
wonder  if  it  turned  out  better  perhaps  for  break- 


ON    THE    BORDEBLAND.  351 

ing,  but  it's  something  different,  and  it  quite 
puzzles  me  ;  you  look  so  down-hearted,  child." 

"  Do  I  ?  "  said  Polly,  standing  quite  straight, 
and  rubbing  her  forehead  with  her  well  hand  ; 
"  there,  now,  I  will  get  the  puckers  and  wrinkles 
out.  There,  Papa  Fisher,  are  they  all  gone  ?  " 
She  smiled  as  cheerily  as  ever,  but  the  little  man 
shook  his  head,  then  took  off  his  spectacles, 
wiped  them,  and  set  them  back  on  his  nose. 

"  No ;  it  won't  do ;  you  can't  make  your 
old  father  believe  but  what  you've  something 
on  your  mind,  Polly.  I  think  I  shall  have 
to  send  your  mother  down  here,"  he  said 
suddenly. 

"  O,  Father  Fisher ! "  cried  Polly,  the  color 
flying  over  her  face,  "  you  wouldn't  ever  do 
that,  I  am  sure  !  Why,  it  would  worry  Mamsie 
so,  and  besides  she  can't  leave  King  Fisher  "- 

He  interrupted  her  as  she  clung  to  his  arm. 
"  I  know  that,  but  what  can  I  do  ?  If  you'd 
only  promise  now,  Polly,"  he  added  artfully, 
"  that  you  won't  tire  yourself  all  out  trying  to 
suit  Mrs.  Cabot's  whims  —  why,  I'd  think  about 
taking  back  what  I  said  about  sending  your 
mother  down." 


352  ON    THE    BORDERLAND. 

«  Oh  !  I  won't  —  I  won't,"  promised  Polly 
gladly.  "And  now,  dear  Papa  Fisher,  you'll 
take  it  all  back,  won't  you  ?  "  she  begged. 

"  Yes,"  said  Dr.  Fisher,  glad  to  see  Polly's 
color  back  again,  and  to  have  her  beg  him  for 
some  favor.  So  the  next  half-hour  or  so  they 
were  very  cheery — just  like  old  times ;  just  as  if 
there  had  been  no  sickness  and  the  shadow  of 
a  loss  upon  them  in  the  past  days. 

"  Though  why  we  should  be  always  acting  as 
if  we  were  in  the  midst  of  it  .now,  I  don't  see," 
said  the  little  doctor  at  last.  "  We're  all  straight- 
ened out,  thank  God,  and  Pickering  mending 
so  fast  that  he's  a  perfect  marvel.  It  would  be 
a  sin  and  a  shame  for  us  to  be  in  the  dumps 
forever.  Well,  now,  Polly,  remember.  Whew ! 
\iear  that  youngster  !  "  This  last  being 
brought  out  by  Johnny's  lusty  shouts  in  the 
next  room.  "  I  don't  envy  Mrs.  Fargo  her  bar- 
gain, and  I  do  Dity  myself  having  to  see  him 
safely  there." 

"  Oh  !  Charlotte  will  take  all  the  care  of  him," 
said  Polly  quickly.  "  She's  just  beautiful  with 
him ;  you  don't  know  how  beautiful,  Papa 
Fisher,  because  you've  been  so  busy,  since 


ON    THE    BORDERLAND.  353 

you've  been  here,  and  Charlotte  has  kept  him 
away  from  everybody  so  he  needn't  worry  any 
one.  And  isn't  it  lovely  that  he  is  to  have  such 
a  beautiful  home?"  added  Polly  with  shining 
eyes. 

"  Um  —  yes,  for  Johnny,"  said  Dr.  Fisher. 
"  Well,  good-by,  Polly."  He  gathered  her  up 
in  his  arms  for  a  final  kiss.  "  Oh  !  here's  Char- 
lotte come  to  bid  you  good-by,  too." 

« Polly,"  -said  Charlotte,  drawing  her  off 
to  a  quiet  corner,  as  the  little  doctor  went 
away,  leaving  the  two  girls  together,  "I 
must  say  something,  and  I  don't  know  how  to 
say  it." 

Polly  looked  at  her  with  wide  eyes. 

"  It's  just  this,"  said  Charlotte,  plunging  on 
desperately ;  "  Polly,  don't  let  Mrs.  Cabot  pick 
at  you  and  talk  about  duty.  Oh !  I  hate  to  hear 
her  speak  the  word,"  exploded  Charlotte,  with 
a  volume  of  wrath  in  her  tone. 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Charlotte  ?"  cried  Polly 
in  a  puzzled  way. 

"  Oh  !  she  may  —  never  mind  how  —  she's 
quite  peculiar,  you  know,"  said  Charlotte,  find- 
ing her  way  less  clear  with  each  word.  "  Never 


354  ON    THE    BORDERLAND. 

mind,  Polly ;  only  just  fight  her  if  she  begins 
on  what  is  your  duty  ;  if  she  does,  then  fight 
her  tooth  and  nail." 

"  But  it  may  be  something  that  I  really  ought 
to  do,"  said  Polly. 

Charlotte  turned  on  her  in  horror.  "  O, 
never  !  "  she  cried.  "  Don't  you  do  it,  Polly 
Pepper.  Just  as  sure  as  she  says  you  ought 
to  do  it,  you  may  know  it  would  be  the  worst 
thing  in  all  the  world.  Promise  me,  Polly,  that 
you  won't  do  it." 

"  But,  Charlotte,  T  ought  not  to  promise  un- 
til I  am  quite  sure  that  it  wouldn't  be  my  duty 
to  do  what  Mrs.  Cabot  advises.  Don't  you  see, 
Charlotte,  that  I  ought  not  to  promise  ?  " 

But  Charlotte  was  too  far  gone  in  anxiety  to 
see  anything,  and  she  could  only  reiterate,  "  Do 
promise,  Polly,  do ;  there's  Mr.  Higby  calling 
us ;  the  carriage  is  at  the  door.  Do,  Polly !  I 
never  will  ask  you  anything  else  if  you'll  only 
promise  me  this." 

But  Polly  could  only  shake  her  head,  and  say, 
"  I  ought  not,"  and  then  Johnny  had  to  be  kissed 
and  wrenched  from  Phronsie,  who  insisted  on 
carrying  him  downstairs  to  set  him  in  the  car- 


.ON    THE    BORDERLAND.  355 

riage,  and  Mrs.  Cabot  came  in,  and  old  Mr.  King 
wanted  a  last  word  with  Charlotte,  so  that  at 
last  she  was  in  Mr.  Higby's  carryall,  shut  in  on 
the  back  seat  looking  out  over  Johnny's  head, 
with  a  pair  of  very  hopeless  eyes.  But  her  lips 
said,  "  Do,  Polly  !  " 

And  still  Polly,  on  the  flat  door-stone,  had  to 
shake  her  head. 

"I  shall  tell  Mrs.  Fisher,  and  beg  her  to  come 
right  down  here,"  determined  Charlotte  Chatter- 
ton  to  herself,  "just  as  soon  as  I  get  in  the  house. 
That  is  exactly  what  I  shall  do,"  she  declared 
savagely,  as  Mr.  Higby  whipped  up  the  mare 
for  the  quarter-mile  drive  to  the  little  station. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

JASPER. 

64  TTALLOO,  King,  Mr.  Marlowe  wants 
JLJL  you."  Jasper,  his  hands  full  of  papers, 
hurried  down  the  long  warehouse,  through  the 
piles  of  books,  fresh  from  the  bindery,  stacked 
closely  to  the  ceiling.  The  busy  packers  who 
were  filling  the  boxes,  looked  up  as  he  threaded 
his  way  between  them.  "  Mr.  Marlowe  is  down 
there,"  indicating  the  direction  with  a  nod,  while 
the  hands  kept  mechanically  at  their  task. 

"  I  want  to  see  you  about  that  last  lot  of 
paper,"  Mr.  Marlowe  began,  before  Jasper  had 
reached  him ;  "  it  is  thin  and  of  poorer  quality 
than  I  ordered.  The  loss  must  be  charged 
back  to  Withers  &  Co." 

"  Is   that   so  ? "    exclaimed   Jasper.     "  They 
assured  me  that  everything  should  be  right,  and 
like  the  sample  that  we  ordered  it  from." 
356 


JASPER.  357 

"  And  Jacob  Bendel  writes  that  the  edition 
we  gave  him  of  History  of  Great  Cities  to 
print  will  be  shipped  to  us  within  a  fortnight, 
when  his  contract  was  to  be  filled  on  Thursday. 
Of  course  we  lose  all  the  Chicago  orders  by 
this  delay." 

"  What's  the  reason  ?  "  asked  Jasper,  feeling 
all  the  thrill  of  the  disappointment  as  keenly 
as  if  he  were  the  head  of  the  house. 

"  Oh !  a  strike  among  the  printers ;  his  best 
men  have  gone  out,  and  he's  at  the  mercy  of  a 
lot  of  inferior  workmen  who  are  being  intimi- 
dated by  the  strikers;  but  he  thinks  he  can  get 
the  edition  to  us  in  ten  days  or  so." 

Mr.  Marlowe  leaded  against  an  empty  pack- 
ing case  and  viewed  the  assistant  foreman  of 
the  manufacturing  department  calmly,  with  the 
air  of  a  man  to  whom  disappointments  were  in 
the  usual  order  of  things. 

"  Can't  we  give  it  to  another  printer  V  "  asked 
Jasper. 

«  Who  ?  " 

"Morse  Brothers?" 

"  They  are  full  and  running  over  with  work. 
I  inquired  there  yesterday ;  we  may  want  a 


358  JASPER. 

little  extra  done  as  the  rush  over  those  Primary 
Readers  is  coming  on.  No,  I  can't  think  of  a 
place  where  we  could  crowd  it  in,  if  we  took 
it  away  from  Bendel." 

Jasper's  gaze  thoughtfully  followed  the  drift 
of  a  shaving  blown  by  the  draft  along  the 
warehouse  floor. 

"  I  think  I'll  send  you  down  to  New  York 
to  see  Bendel,  and  find  out  how  things  are.  I 
don't  get  any  satisfaction  from  letters,"  said 
Mr.  Marlowe  in  a  minute.  "Beside  you  can 
attend  to  some  other  matters;  and  then  there 
is  that  Troy  job  ;  you  can  do  that." 

"  Very  well,  sir." 

"Can  you  take  the  night  express?"  Mr. 
Marlowe  pulled  out  his  watch.  It  was  ten 
minutes  of  three. 

"  Can  I  leave  the  Ransom  bills  I  was  check- 
ing off  ?  Mr.  Parker  said  they  were  the  most 
important  of  the  lot." 

"  Parker  must  give  them  to  Richard  ^  he 
knows  pretty  well  how  to  do  them,  unless  he 
can  find  time  for  them  himself." 

"  I  was  to  be  at  the  Green  printing-office  at 
nine  to-morrow  morning,"  said  Jasper. 


JASPER.  359 

"What  for?" 

"They  sent  down  to  Mr.  Parker  yesterday 
that  we  had  made  a  mistake  about  price  for 
doing  those  five  hundred  Past  and  Present ; 
and  wanted  him  to  go  to  their  office,  and  see 
Mr.  Green  himself." 

"  If  Mr.  Green  thinks  any  mistake  has  been 
made,  let  him  come  to  us,"  said  Mr.  Marlowe 
coolly.  "  You  tell  Parker  to  send  a  note  to 
that  effect ;  courteously  written,  of  course,  but 
to  the  point.  We  don't  go  running  around 
after  people  who  think  mistakes  are  made.  Let 
them  bring  their  grievances  here,  if  they  have 
any.  Is  that  all  that  detains  you  ?  " 

Jasper  held  out  his  hand  full  of  papers. 
"  These  were  to  come  in  between  when  they 
could,  sir." 

"  Hem  - —  hem  "  Mr.  Marlowe  read  them 
over  with  a  practiced  eye ;  rolled  them  up,  and 
handed  the  roll  to  Jasper.  "Tell  Parker  to 
set  Danforth  on  those.  Anything  more  ?  " 

"  I  was  to  go  to-morrow  if  there  was  time  to 
get  prices  for  best  calendered  paper  of  Patter- 
son &  Co.  and  Withers;  but  the  next  day  will 
do." 


360  JASPER. 

"Parker  must  attend  to  all  that,"  said  Mr. 
Marlowe  decidedly. 

"Very  well,  sir.  I  believe  that  is  all  that 
hurries  particularly." 

"Come  this  way;  I'll  give  you  instructions 
what  to  say  to  Beudel,"  and  Mr.  Marlowe  led 
the  way  out  to  a  quiet  corner  of  the  warehouse, 
where  he  sat  down  by  a  desk,  and  rapidly  laid 
the  points  of  the  business  before  his  assistant. 

The  next  morning  in  New  York  Jasper  ran 
across  Mr.  Whitney  on  Broadway. 

"  Well  said ;  that  you,  Jasper  ?  Why  aren't 
you  up  at  the  house  ?  " 

"  I  came  on  the  night  express,"  said  Jasper, 
finding  it  hard  to  wait  a  minute,  "on  a  matter 
of  importance  for  Mr.  Marlowe.  Sorry,  Brother 
Mason,  but  I  can't  stop  now." 

"You'll  be  up  to-night,  of  course,"  said 
Mason  Whitney. 

"  I  can't ;  I'm  off  for  Troy,"  said  Jasper  con- 
cisely, "  and  I  don't  come  back  this  way." 

"  Goodness !  what  a  man  your  Marlowe  is. 
And  your  sister  Marian  wants  to  hear  about 
Polly  and  all  the  others ;  you've  seen  them  so 
lately." 


JASPER.  361 

"  It's  impossible,"  began  Jasper ;  "  you  see  I 
can't  help  it,  Brother  Mason ;  Mr.  Marlowe's 
orders  must  be  carried  out." 

"  He's  a  beast,  your  Marlowe  is,"  declared 
Mr.  Whitney  hotly.  "  I  don't  know  what 
Marian  will  say  when  I  tell  her  you  are  here 
in  New  York  and  won't  stop  for  even  a  word 
with  her." 

"  Sister  Marian  will  say  it's  all  right,"  said 
Jasper,  a  trifle  impatiently,  and  feeling  the  loss 
of  every  moment  a  thing  to  be  atoned  for. 
"  Mr.  Marlowe  is  loaded  up  with  trouble  of 
all  kinds.  Now  I  must  go." 

"  Hold  on  a  minute,"  cried  Mason  Whitney. 
"  Well,  how  are  you  getting  on  ?  Seems  to  me 
the  publishing  business  doesn't  agree  with  you. 
You  look  peaked  enough,"  scanning  Jasper's 
face  closely. 

"  I'm  well  enough,"  said  Jasper  abruptly. 
u  Tell  sister  Marian  I  will  write  her  very  soon," 
pulling  out  his  watch  ;  "  good- by,"  and  he  was 
lost  in  the  crowd  surging  down  Broadway. 
Mr.  Whitney  standing  still  a  moment  to  look 
after  him,  turned,  and  went  directly  to  his  office. 

"That  call  on  Hendryx  &  Co.  can  wait,"  he 


362  JASPER. 

muttered  to  himself  on  the  way,  "but  Jasper 
can't.  The  boy  looks  badly,  and  his  father 
ought  to  know  it ;  although  it  seems  funny 
enough  for  me  to  be  meddling  with  Jasper's 
affairs.  But  I  won't  leave  anything  to  worry 
about  afterward  ;  they  can't  say  I  ought  to 
have  told  them." 

So  a  letter  went  out  by  next  mail  from  Mr. 
Whitney's  office,  saying  that  Jasper  looked 
poorly  enough  when  he  was  met  in  New  York ; 
that  he  seemed  incapable  of  breathing  any  other 
air  than  that  saturated  with  business  ;  that  he 
had  evidently  mistaken  his  vocation  when  he 
chose  to  be  a  publisher.  "  Beside,  there  isn't 
any  money  now  in  the  publishing  business," 
added  Mr.  Whitney  as  a  clincher ;  "  there  are 
too  many  of  the  fellows  cutting  each  other's 
throats  to  make  it  pay  ;  and  books  are  slaugh- 
tered right  and  left,  and  Jasper  much  better 
get  into  some  other  business,  in  my  opinion." 

Meanwhile  Jasper  finished,  to  the  letter,  the 
instructions  for  Jacob  Bendel,  did  up  the  other 
matters  entrusted  to  him,  and  set  out  on  his 
Troy  expedition.  Here  he  was  detained  a  day 
or  two,  Mr.  Marlowe's  instructions  being  to 


JASPER.  363 

wait  over  and  telegraph  if  the  business  could 
not  be  adjusted  satisfactorily.  But  the  fourth 
day  after  leaving  home,  Jasper,  just  from  the 
night  express,  mounted  the  stairs  to  his  hotel 
in  the  early  morning,  his  bag  in  his  hand,  and 
the  expression  on  his  face  of  a  man  who  has 
accomplished  what  he  set  out  to  do. 

"  There's  an  old  gent  up  in  your  room,"  an- 
nounced Buttons,  tumbling  off,  a  sleepy  heap, 
from  one  of  the  office  chairs,  to  look  at  him. 

"  An  old  gentleman  in  my  room,"  repeated 
Jasper,  turning  on  the  stairs.  "  Why  was  any 
person  put  in  my  room  ?  " 

"  We  didn't  put  the  person  there,"  said  the 
boy,  yawning  fearfully,  "  he  put  himself  there. 
He's  a  tiger,  he  is,  and  he  blows  me  up  reg'lar 
'cause  you  ain't  home,"  he  added. 

Jasper  scaled  the  rest  of  the  stairs,  and  tried 
the  knob  of  his  door  with  no  gentle  hand. 
Then  he  rapped  loudly.  "  Open  the  door  — 
this  is  my  room." 

"  Oh !  I'm  coming,"  said  a  voice  he  knew 
quite  well,  and  presently  old  Mr.  King  stood 
before  him,  his  velvet  cap  and  morning  jacket 
both  awry  from  impatient  fingers. 


364 


JASPER. 


«  Father !  "  ejaculated  Jasper.     And  «  Good- 
ness me,  Jasper  1"  from   the   old   gentleman, 


"AN  OLD    GENTLEMAN    IN    MY    ROOM,"    REPEATED    JASPEK, 
TURNING  ON   THE   STAIRS. 

"  what  an  unearthly  hour  to  come  home  in." 
Jasper  hurried  in,  set  his  bag  in  the  corner, 


JASPER.  365 

then  turned  and  looked  at  his  father  anxiously. 
Meanwhile  old  Mr.  King  was  studying  his  son's 
countenance  with  no  small  degree  of  alarm. 

u  What  is  it,"  cried  Jasper  at  last,  coming 
close  to  him,  "  that  has  brought  you  ?  " 

"  What  ?  —  why,  you." 

"  Me  ?  "  cried  Jasper,  in  amazement. 

"  Yes  ;  dear  me,  Jasper,  with  all  the  worries 
I  have  had  lately,  it  does  seem  a  pity  that  you 
couldn't  take  care  of  yourself.  It  really  does," 
repeated  Mr.  King,  his  feelings  nowise  soothed 
by  picking  up  his  watch  and  finding  it  half-past 
six  o'clock.  When  he  made  sure  of  the  time, 
he  set  down  the  watch  quickly,  and  stared  at 
Jasper  worse  than  ever. 

"Now,  father,"  said  Jasper,  "there's  a  mis- 
take somewhere,  but  never  mind  now;  you 
must  get  back  to  bed  again.  I  don't  know 
when  you've  been  up  at  this  hour."  He  tried 
to  laugh,  while  he  laid  his  hand  on  the  old  gen- 
tleman's arm.  "  Do  get  back  to  bed,  father." 

"  It  certainly  is  a  most  outrageous  hour  in 
which  to  arise,"  remarked  his  father,  not  able 
to  suppress  a  yawn,  "  and  I  don't  mind  if  I  do 
turn  in  —  but  where  will  you  sleep,  Jasper  ?  " 


366  JASPER. 

whirling  around  on  his  son.  "  I've  come  to 
look  after  you,  and  I  shouldn't  begin  very 
well  to  monopolize  your  bed,"  with  a  short 
laugh. 

"  Oh,  I'll  camp  out  on  the  lounge,"  said  Jas- 
per carelessly;  "in  two  minutes  I  could  be 
asleep  there  or  anywhere  else.  Don't  mind 
me,  father." 

"If  you  say  so,  then  I  will,"  said  the  old 
gentleman,  "  and  you  are  too  tired  to  talk  be- 
fore you've  had  a  nap."  So  he  lay  down  on 
the  bed,  Jasper  dutifully  tucking  him  up,  and 
presently  his  regular  breathing  told  that  he  had 
picked  up  the  threads  of  his  broken  slumber. 

Jasper  threw  himself  on  the  lounge,  but  un- 
able to  close  his  eyes,  his  gaze  fell  on  a  sheet 
of  paper,  lying  on  the  floor  just  within  reach. 
It  was  impossible  to  avoid  reading  the  words : 
"  And  Jasper  better  get  into  some  other  busi- 
ness, in  my  opinion,"  and  signed  "  Mason 
Whitney." 

Jasper  jumped  to  his  feet  and  strode  up  and 
down  the  room  in  growing  indignation  ;  then 
seized  his  hat  and  darted  out  to  cool  himself 
off  before  his  father  should  awake.  When  he 


• 

JASPER.  367 

returned,  old  Mr.  King  was  half-dressed,  and 
berating  Buttons  for  his  failure  to  have  the 
morning  paper  .at  the  door. 

"Now  for  breakfast,"  cried  Jasper,  his  own 
toilet  quickly  made,  "  then  I  presume  you  want 
to  see  me  in  my  business  surroundings,  father?  " 
as  they  went  down  the  stairs  together. 

"  I  most  certainly  do,"  said  the  old  gentle- 
man decidedly ;  and  they  turned  into  the 
breakfast  room. 

So  after  a  meal  in  which  Jasper,  by  skillful 
management  of  all  conversational  topics,  al- 
lowed no  chance  word  of  business  to  intrude, 
old  Mr.  King  and  he  started  for  the  publishing 
house  of  D.  Marlowe  &  Co.,  Jasper  filling  up 
all  gaps  that  might  suggest  time  for  certain 
questions  that  seemed  to  be  trembling  on  the 
tip  of  Mr.  King's  tongue,  while  that  gentleman 
was  making  a  running  commentary  to  himself 
something  in  this  wise :  "  Just  like  Mason ;  send 
me  off  here  when  there  is  not  the  slightest 
need  of  it.  The  boy  is  well  enough ;  quite 
well  enough,"  he  added,  in  his  energy  speaking 
the  last  words  aloud. 

"  What  is  it,  father  ?  "     Jasper  paused  in  the 


368  JASPEE. 

midst  of  a  descriptive  fire  concerning  the  new 
buildings  going  up  on  either  hand,  with  many 
side  stories  of  the  men  who  were  erecting 
them  ;  and  he  paused  for  an  answer. 

"Nothing — nothing  of  importance,"  said  his 
father  hastily.  "  I  only  observed  that  you  ap- 
peared to  be  doing  quite  well ;  and  as  if  the  busi- 
ness agreed  with  you,"  he  added  involuntarily. 

"  I  should  think  it  did,  father,"  cried  Jasper 
enthusiastically,  while  his  cheek  glowed;  "it's 
the  grandest  work  a  man  can  do,  in  my 
opinion." 

"  Hem,  hem  !  well,  we  shall  see,"  observed 
Mr.  King  drily,  determined  not  to  yield  too 
easily.  "You've  been  at  it  only  six  months. 
You  know  the  old  adage,  Jasper  :  '  You  must 
summer  and  winter '  a  thing  before  you  decide." 

Jasper  drew  a  long  breath.  "  I  shall  never 
be  anything  but  a  publisher,  father,"  he  said 
quietly. 

"  Hoity,  toity  !  well,  that  is  for  me  to  decide, 
I  take  it,"  responded  his  father.  "  You've  never 
disobeyed  me  yet,  Jasper,  and  I  don't  believe  you 
ever  will.  And  if  I  think  it's  best  for  you  to 
change  your  business,  of  course  you'll  do  it." 


JASPER.  369 

Jasper's  brow  darkened,  and  he  closed  his 
lips  tightly  for  a  moment.  Then  something 
Polly  said  once  when  his  father  was  in  a  par- 
ticularly determined  mood,  came  to  his  mind : 
"You  better  make  him  happy,  Jasper,  any 
way."  That  "  any  way  "  carried  the  day  now. 

"  It  shall  be  as  you  wish,  father,"  he  said,  the 
frown  disappearing;  "  I  want  you  to  be  pleased, 
any  way,"  unconsciously  using  Polly's  word. 

"  I  don't  know  as  I  should  be  at  all  pleased 
to  have  you  leave  the  publishing  business,  Jas- 
per," said  old  Mr.  King,  veering  around  quickly. 
"  I  can't  tell  till  I've  seen  just  how  it  suits  you. 
But  I  am  going  to  the  root  of  the  matter,  now 
that  I  am  here.  Oh  !  is  this  the  place  ?  "  as  they 
came  up  against  a  large  window,  behind  whose 
plate  glass,  rows  and  rows  of  books  in  all  styles 
of  bindings,  met  the  view  of  the  passer-by. 

"  This  is  it,"  said  Jasper,  with  a  thrill  that  he 
was  part  of  the  "  it,"  and  the  satisfaction  in  his 
completed  commission,  that  had  been  lost  by 
his  father's  words,  now  bounded  high  again. 
"  Now  then,  father,  you  must  meet  Mr.  Mar- 
lowe," turning  up  the  steps. 

Old  Mr.  King  walked  down  the  store-length 


370  JASPER. 

as  if  he  owned  the  whole  with  several  others 
of  its  kind  thrown  in,  and  on  Jasper's  pausing 
before  a  small  office-door,  marked  "private," 
heard  him  say  through  its  open  window,  "  Good- 
morning,  Mr.  Marlowe." 

u  Ah,  good-morning,"  came  back  quickly,  and 
Mr.  King  saw  a  pleasant-faced  gentleman  of 
middle  age,  whose  keen  gray  eyes  seemed  to 
note  everything  with  lightning-like  rapidity  — 
"  business  all  right  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Jasper. 

"  Very  well ;  you  may  come  to  me  in  a  quarter 
of  an  hour  and  report.  I  shall  be  through  with 
these  gentlemen,"  indicating  one  sitting  by  his 
side  at  the  desk,  and  another  awaiting  his  turn. 

"  Tell  him  that  I  am  here,  Jasper,"  said  Mr. 
King  pompously,  with  an  admonitory  touch 
upon  Jasper's  arm. 

"  It's  impossible,  father ;  he  can't  see  you 
now,"  said  Jasper  hurriedly,  trying  to  draw 
his  father  off  to  a  quieter  corner. 

"  Impossible  ?  Can't  see  me  ?  What  is  there 
to  prevent,  pray  tell  ?"  cried  the  old  gentleman 
irately. 

"  He  has  business  men  with  him ;  they'll  be 


JASPER.  373 

through  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour,"  Jasper  brought 
out  in  distress  that  was  by  no  means  lightened 
by  the  knowledge  that  half  of  the  clerks  through 
the  long  salesroom  were  becoming  acquainted 
with  the  conversation. 

"  It's  atrocious.  I  never  was  kept  waiting 
in  my  life,"  fumed  Mr.  King.  "  He  doesn't 
know  I  am  here  —  I  will  announce  myself."  . 

He  started  forward. 

"  Father,"  cried  Jasper,  darting  after  him, 
"  let  me  get  you  a  chair  over  here  by  the  table 
and  some  books  to  look  at." 

"  I  want  no  books,"  said  the  old  gentleman, 
now  thoroughly  determined,  by  this  time  look- 
ing in  the  open  window  of  the  private  office. 
"  Good-morning,  sir,"  stiffly  to  the  middle-aged 
gentleman  sitting  before  the  desk. 

This  gentleman  looked  up,  nodded  carelessly 
and  said,  "  Excuse  me,  but  I  am  at  present 
engaged." 

"  I  am  Mr.  Jasper  King's  father,"  announced 
the  old  gentleman  with  extreme  dignity;  and 
again  the  look  of  being  able  to  buy  out  this 
and  several  other  such  establishments,  spread 
over  his  face. 


374  JASPER. 

"  I  shall  be  very  glad  to  see  you,  sir,"  said 
the  middle-aged  man  imperturbably,  "  in  a 
quarter  of  an  hour.  Excuse  me,"  and  he 
turned  back  to  finish  his  sentence  to  the 
other  business  man. 

"  Jasper,"  cried  Mr.  King,  taking  short,  quick 
steps  to  where  Jasper  stood,  "  give  me  a  sheet 
of  paper  so  that  I  may  write  to  this  fellow,  and 
take  you  out  of  his  contemptible  trade  —  or 
stay,  I  will  write  from  the  hotel,"  and  he 
started  for  the  door. 

"  Father,"  exclaimed  Jasper  in  alow  tone,  but 
so  distinctly  that  every  one  standing  near  might 
hear,  "  Mr  Marlowe  is  just  right ;  he  always  is." 

"  Eh  ?  "  cried  his  father,  turning  and  grasping 
the  back  of  a  chair  to  steady  himself. 

"  Mr.  Marlowe  is  just  right  about  these  things. 
He  really  couldn't  see  you,  father." 

"  I  have  never  been  obliged  to  wait  for  any 
one  in  all  my  life,  Jasper,"  declared  his  father 
impressively,  "  and  I  never  will." 

"  I  wonder  what  Polly  would  do  now," 
thought  Jasper  in  despair. 

"And  that  you  could  tolerate  such  imperti- 
nence to  me,"  continued  Mr.  King  with  grow- 


JASPER.  375 

ing  anger,  "  is  more  than  I  can  understand  ;  but 
since  you've  come  into  trade  it's  vastly  changed 
you.  If  you  do  not  choose  to  come  to  the 
hotel  with  me,  I  must  go  alone,"  which  with 
great  dignity  he  now  proceeded  to  do. 

The  first  business  man  who  had  finished  his 
conference  with  Mr.  Marlowe  now  came  down 
the  salesroom.  "How  d'  ye,  King,"  he  said 
cordially  to  Jasper  in  passing. 

Jasper's  face  lighted  as  he  gave  an  equally 
cordial  response. 

"  Such  familiarity,  Jasper  !  "  exclaimed  his 
father  in  a  fresh  burst  of  irritation.  "  Dear 
me,  I  only  trust  you're  not  completely  spoiled 
before  I  get  you  out  of  this." 

The  business  man  turned  around  and  gave  a 
significant  look  to  a  knot  of  the  salesmen,  but 
happening  to  catch  Jasper's  eye,  he  said,  "  It's 
a  fine  day,  King,"  carelessly,  and  passed  out, 
but  not  before  "  Stuck-up  old  money-bag  "  fell 
upon  the  old  gentleman's  ear. 

"  We  would  better  go  to  the  hotel  now,  I 
think,  father,"  said  Jasper  quietly.  "  Frank," 
to  the  nearest  salesman,  "  will  you  tell  Mr.  Mar- 
lowe when  it  is  ten  minutes  past,"  glancing  at 


376  JASPER. 

the  clock,  "  that  T  was  obliged  to  go  with  my 
father,  but  I  will  be  back  at  ten  o'clock  ?  " 

"  You  need  give  yourself  no  such  trouble, 
Jasper,  as  all  this,"  said  his  father  decidedly ; 
"  I  will  wait  if  it  is  absolutely  necessary  that 
you  see  him,"  with  a  patronizing  wave  of  his 
gloved  hand  toward  the  private  office. 

"  It  is  absolutely  necessary,"  said  Jasper. 

"Very  well;  I  wait,  then,"  said  his  father, 
accepting  with  the  air  of  a  martyr,  the  chair  by 
the  table  of  books. 

And  just  then  the  private  office-door  opened 
and  out  came  the  other  business  man,  followed 
by  Mr.  Marlowe. 

"  Frank,"  he  called  briskly,  "  ask  Jasper's 
father  to  step  here." 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 

MR.    KING     ATTENDS    TO    MATTERS. 

OLD  MR.  KING  kept  on  turning  the  books 
with  a  careless  hand. 

"  Father,"  begged  Jasper  in  a  low  voice,  and 
putting  his  hand  on  the  old  gentleman's  arm, 
such  a  world  of  entreaty  in  his  face,  that  his 
father  turned  in  spite  of  himself. 

"  After  all  I  much  better  have  it  over  with 
now,  I  really  think,"  said  Mr.  King ;  "  yes,  Jas- 
per, we  will  go  back,"  with  a  marked  emphasis 
on  the  word  "  back." 

"  I  can't  thank  you  enough,  father,"  ex- 
claimed Jasper  gratefully. 

"  Well,  well,  say  no  more,"  said  old  Mr. 
King  abruptly,  as  they  reached  the  private 
office. 

Mr.  Marlowe's  hands  were  mechanically  ad- 
justing the  loose  papers  on  his  desk,  so  as  not 
377  • 


378  MR.    KING    ATTENDS    TO    MATTERS. 

to  lose  an  instant's  time  as  Mr.  King  and  Jas- 
per came  up,  but  he  turned  a  face,  over  which 
a  bright  smile  shot  suddenly,  lighting  up  the 
gray  eyes,  then  quickly  whirled  around  in  his 
office  chair.  "  Glad  to  see  you,"  he  said,  put- 
ting out  a  cordial  right  hand. 

Mr.  King  bowed,  but  evidently  did  not  see 
the  hand ;  which  Mr.  Marlowe  not  appearing 
to  notice,  the  old  gentleman  was  more  furious 
than  ever. 

"  Set  a  chair  for  your  father,  Jasper,"  said 
Mr.  Marlowe  quietly,  "  and  get  one  for  your- 
self." Then  he  leaned  back  in  his  office  chair 
and  pleasantly  surveyed  old  Mr.  King,  waiting 
for  him  to  speak. 

"  I  have  come,  sir,"  said  Mr.  King,  as  he 
settled  his  courtly  old  figure  in  the  chair  Jasper 
had  put  for  him  beside  the  desk,  "  to  see  you 
about  my  son  ;  I  am  not  satisfied  with  his 
appearance,  nor,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  with  his 
surroundings." 

"  Indeed,  ?"  said  the  head  of  the  publishing 
house  of  D.  Marlowe  &  Co.,  still  with  a  pleas- 
ant smile  on  his  face. 

"  I  am  very  sorry,"  repeated  Jasper's  father, 


MR.    KING    ATTENDS    TO    MATTERS.  379 

"  to  have  to  say  it,  but  my  attention  has  been 
called  to  the  fact,  and  I  cannot  now  ignore  it." 

"  Hardly  by  Jasper,"  remarked  Mr.  Mar^ 
lowe,  bringing  the  revolving  chair  so  that  he 
could  see  Jasper's  face. 

"  Indeed,  no,"  cried  Jasper  involuntarily,  "  it 
is  something  father  has  heard  elsewhere,  Mr. 
Marlowe,  and  I  know  he  will  feel  quite  differ- 
ently when  he  comes  to  see  things  as  they 
really  are." 

The  grave  look  on  Mr.  Marlowe's  face  disap- 
peared as  he  turned  back  to  old  Mr.  King. 
"  Well,"  he  said  at  last,  as  the  other  showed  no 
sign  of  continuing  the  conversation,  and  still 
playing  with  the  paper  cutter  on  his  desk. 

"  Permit  me  to  say,  sir,"  Mr.  King  broke 
out,  finding  to  his  astonishment  it  was  not  an 
easy  matter  to  talk  to  this  imperturbable  man 
entrenched  behind  his  own  desk,  "  that  I  am 
disappointed  in  the  atmosphere  in  which  I  find 
my  son.  It  smells  of  trade,  sir,  too  much  to 
suit  my  fancy." 

"  Did  you  suppose  for  an  instant,  Mr.  King," 
asked  Mr.  Marlowe,  dropping  the  paper-cutter 
to  pick  up  the  pencil,  "that  our  books  came 


380          MB.    KING    ATTENDS    TO    MATTERS. 

out  ready  for  libraries,  without  any  intervening 
process  ?  " 

"  I  certainly  supposed  Jasper  was  to  be  in 
charge  of  a  literary  department  of  the  house, 
when  I  gave  ray  consent  to  his  coming  here — " 
declared  Mr.  King  very  decidedly. 

"  Father  ! "  exclaimed  Jasper,  unable  longer 
to  keep  silent,  "  how  could  I  take  charge  of  any 
department,  until  I  had  learned  it  all  myself  ?  " 

"  You  have  been  through  Harvard,"  his 
father  turned  on  him,  "  and  it  seems  to  me  are 
fully  competent  to  do  the  literary  work  required 
here." 

"  And  as  for  the  manufacturing  department," 
continued  Jasper,  finding  it  more  difficult  to 
keep  still,  "  it  was  the  only  place  for  me ;  I  had 
to  begin  at  the  bottom,  if  I'm  ever  to  be  a  pub- 
lisher —  which  is  what  my  work  is  to  be  — 

"  Not  so  fast  —  not  so  fast,"  cried  the  old 
gentleman  excitedly.  "  You  are  not  to  be  a 
publisher,  I  take  it,  if  I  do  not  wish  it.  You've 
given  your  word  you  will  not." 

"  I  have  given  my  word,  father,"  said  Jasper 
with  a  long  breath,  "  and  I'll  not  go  back  on 
it,"  but  his  lips  whitened. 


MR.    KING    ATTENDS    TO    MATTERS.          381 

All  this  while  Mr.  Marlowe  still  played  with 
the  little  articles  on  his  desk,  sitting  very 
quietly  and  watching  the  two.  He  now  threw 
them  down  with  an  abrupt  movement,  whirled 
the  revolving  chair  around  suddenly  and  sent 
a  lightning-like  glance  of  stern  inquiry  toward 
old  Mr.  King.  » 

"  Be  so  kind,  sir,  as  to  define  exactly  what 
your  intentions  are  as  to  your  son's  future. 
Time  is  very  valuable  here,  and  every  fraction 
squandered  has  to  be  made  up  in  some  way." 

"  My  intentions  are,"  said  the  old  gentleman, 
in  a  lofty  way,  "  to  take  my  son  out  of  the 
business  —  entirely  out,  sir,"  he  waved  his 
hand  in  a  stately  and  comprehensive  manner  ; 
then  glanced  to  see  the  effect  on  the  head  of 
the  house. 

But  there  was  no  effect  whatever,  except  a 
quick  business-like  acceptance  of  the  situation 
on  Mr.  Marlowe's  implacable  face.  "  Father!" 
began  Jasper.  But  old  Mr.  King  was  beyond 
hearing  a  word. 

"  I  had  intended,"  he  went  on  condescend- 
ingly, "  to  have  my  son  put  in  a  large  interest 
in  the  business,  supposing  it  turned  out  to  be 


382          MR.    KING    ATTENDS    TO    MATTERS. 

the  proper  one  for  him.  In  fact,  his  and  my 
financial  support  would  have  made  it  one  of 
the  finest  publishing  houses  in  the  world." 

Mr.  Marlowe  bowed.  "  Thank  you,"  he  said 
politely.  "  James,"  turning  to  the  window 
opening  into  the  book-keeping  department, 
"  make  out  Jasper  King's  account  and  settle  at 
once.  I  believe  you  wish  to  go  as  soon  as  you 
can,  do  you  not,"  to  Jasper,  "  that  is,  after  you 
have  given  me  the  report  of  the  business  you 
did  on  the  trip?" 

Jasper  could  not  speak  for  a  moment.  Then 
he  said  :  "  But  I  can't  leave  my  work  in  this 
way — it's,"  and  he  sprang  to  his  feet. 

"  Jasper,"  Mr.  Marlowe  stopped  a  moment 
and  seemed  to  swallow  something  in  his  throat, 
then  went  on,  "  your  father  wishes  it,  and  you 
•will  make  him  happy "  —  Jasper  started  at 
Polly's  own  words  —  "  that's  enough  for  one 
life  time.  I'm  sorry  to  lose  you,  my  boy,"  he 
suddenly  grasped  Jasper's  hand,  "  but  allow  me 
to  say,  sir,"  turning  to  old  Mr.  King,  "  that 
for  you  and  your  money  I  have  very  little 
consideration.  You  don't  own  enough  to 
make  it  worth  while  for  the  house  of  David 


MR.    KING    ATTENDS    TO    MATTERS.          383 

Marlowe  &  Co.  to  extend  an  invitation  to  you 
to  enter  it.  And  now,  if  you  will  excuse  me, 
I  will  hear  Jasper's  account  of  the  business 
he  was  sent  on." 

With  that,  seeing  it  was  expected  of  him, 
old  Mr.  King  got  out  of  his  chair,  by  the  side 
of  the  desk,  and  passed  into  the  long  salesroom. 

"  I  hope  you'll  believe,"  began  Jasper 
brokenly,  feeling  as  if  the  whole  world  were 
going  awry,  "  that  this  Strange  idea  was  never 
gained  from  me.  Why,  I  love  the  business." 
His  gray  eyes  glowed  as  he  spoke  the  word. 

"My  boy,"  Mr.  Marlowe's  face  was  alight 
with  feeling,  "  don't  explain,  I  understand  it  all ; 
you've  the  misfortune  to  be  born  into  a  rich 
family,  and  your  father  probably  never  had  to 
raise  his  hand  to  earn  a  penny.  He  isn't  to  be 
blamed,  only  I  did  hope  " 

"  That  I  was  different,"  finished  Jasper,  his 
head  drooping  a  bit  with  the  shame  of  it. 
"  Oh,  Mr.  Marlowe,  father  is  so  splendid  —  he's 
just  a  magnificent  man,"  he  added,  the  head 
coming  up,  with  Jasper's  old  habit  of  throw- 
ing  it  back,  "  if  you  only  knew  him  and  he 
could  have  shown  you  his  old  self." 


384    MR.  KING  ATTENDS  TO  MATTERS. 

"  Don't  I  know  it,"  responded  Mr.  Marlowe 
heartily,  "  and  I  also  know  that  you  must  stick 
by  him.  Only  I  did  hope  —  and  now  I  will 
finish  what  I  was  going  to  say  —  that  you  could 
stay  and  help  me,  for  you  are  after  my  own 
heart,  Jasper,"  he  added  abruptly,  a  rare  tremble 
in  his  voice. 

Jasper  put  out  his  hand  instinctively. 
"  Thank  you,  Mr.  Marlowe,"  he  said  as  the 
head  of  the  house  grasped  it  warmly,  "  I  shall 
never  forget  this." 

And  then,  as  if  nothing  but  the  ordinary 
business  had  occurred,  Jasper  sat  down  and 
went  carefully  over  every  detail  of  the  com- 
mission he  had  been  sent  on,  heard  Mr.  Mar- 
lowe's terse,  "  That's  good,  Jasper ;  you've 
done  it  all  well,"  and  passed  out  for  the  last 
time,  from  the  private  office,  and  joined  his 
father  in  silence,  for  the  walk  to  the  hotel. 

That  night  Jasper's  father  wanted  to  go  to 
a  concert,  so  Jasper  got  a  box,  and  sat  through 
it  all,  not  seeing  anything  but  Polly's  face, 
and  hearing,  "  I'd  make  him  happy,  any  way." 

Down  in  the  audience  sprinkled  here  and 
there,  or  in  the  galleries,  were  some  of  the 


MR.    KING    ATTENDS    TO    MATTERS.          385 

D.  Marlowe  &  Co.  salesmen  and  workers  star- 
ing often  up  at  him,  and  the  handsome  white- 
haired  old  gentleman  by  his  side. 

"  There's  that  old  snob,"  they  would  exclaim 
at  first  recognition,  to  their  companions,  "  look 
at  him,"  and  under  pretense  of  gazing  at  the 
stage,  the  opera  glasses  would  be  turned  on 
the  box.  "  Looks  as  if  he  owned  the  whole 
town,  eh  ?  " 

"He  is  awfully  handsome,  isn't  he?"  every 
salesman's  companion  would  exclaim,  looking 
at  Jasper  pale  and  quiet,  in  the  most  secluded 
part  of  the  box. 

"  Yes,"  said  every  one  of  the  men,  only  see- 
ing the  old  gentleman,  "  but  he's  too  toploftical 
to  live  " —  or  something  to  that  effect  —  and  then 
they  would  forget  all  about  it  till  the  compan- 
ion's opera  glasses  leveled  in  the  same  direction, 
brought  the  conversation  around  to  the  old 
topic. 

"  They  had  a  flare-up  with  Mr.  Marlowe  this 
morning,"  confided  one  salesman  to  his  friend 
in  the  entr'acte,  "and  he's  off,"  with  a  nod  over 
to  Jasper's  private  box. 

"  Oh  dear  me ! "  exclaimed  the  young  girl, 


386    MB.  KING  ATTENDS  TO  MATTERS. 

with  a  pang  at  her  heart,  « has  he  left  your 
business  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  the  salesman,  and  a  real  regret 
passed  over  his  careless  face,  "  and  it's  a  shame, 
for  no  one  would  have  thought  he  owned  a 
penny  ;  he  was  just  digging  at  the  business  all 
the  time,  like  the  rest  of  us." 

"  Is  he  very  rich  ?  "  asked  the  young  girl. 

"  Well,  I  should  say,"  began  the  salesman, 
unable  to  find  words  to  express  Jasper's  finan- 
cial condition.  Then  the  curtain  rang  up. 

The  next  morning,  old  Mr.  King  broke  the 
egg  into  his  cup  thoughtfully.  "  I  suppose  I 
might  as  well  look  about  a  bit,  now  that  I'm 
here,  Jasper.  1  haven't  been  in  this  town  for 
twenty  years  or  so." 

"Very  well,  father,"  said  Jasper,  trying  not 
to  be  listless.  "  Where  shall  we  go  to-day?  " 

"  Oh,  I'll  look  around  by  myself,"  said  his 
father  quickly.  "  You  go  to  bed  —  you  look 
all  done  up,"  scanning  his  son's  face  anxiously. 

"  Indeed,  you  will  not  go  alone,"  said  Jasper, 
rousing  himself  with  shame.  "  We'll  have  a 
good  day  together." 

"  Indeed  we  will  not,"  retorted  the  old  gentle- 


MR.    KING    ATTENDS    TO    MATTERS.          387 

man.  "  I  shall  have  a  cab  and  go  by  myself. 
You'll  go  to  bed,  or  I'll  call  in  the  doctor. 
Goodness  me,  Jasper,  you  don't  look  like  the 
same  boy  that  started  out  in  business  six 
months  ago ;  you're  all  worn  out." 

Jasper  said  nothing,  only  redoubled  his  efforts 
on  the  breakfast  before  him  that  now  assumed 
colossal  proportions,  and  as  if  it  could  never  be 
eaten  in  the  world,  hoping  to  persuade  his 
father  into  allowing  him  to  go  on  the  tour  of 
inspection.  But  it  was  no  use.  Mr.  King 
on  finishing  his  morning  repast,  stalked  out  to 
the  office,  and  ordered  a  carriage,  and  presently 
departed,  with  last  injunctions  to  Jasper,  "to 
lie  down  and  take  things  easy." 

As  his  father  closed  the  door,  Jasper  sank 
into  a  chair  by  the  table  and  allowed  his  head 
to  drop  into  his  hands ;  but  only  for  a  minute, 
then  he  sprang  to  his  feet,  and  paced  the  floor 
rapidly. 

"  If  Polly  is  only  happy,"  he  said  to  himself 
over  and  over.  How  long  he  walked  thus  he 
never  knew  —  it  was  only  by  hearing  a  vigor- 
ous knock  on  the  door  that  he  stopped,  and 
called,  "  Come  in." 


388         MB.    KING    ATTENDS    TO    MATTERS. 

"  They  told  me,"  said  Jack  Loughead,  an- 
swering the  knock,  "at  the  Mario wes,'  that  I 
should  find  you  here,  unless  you  had  left  the 
town.  Are  you  sick  ?"  he  asked  with  concern. 

"  No  ;  sit  down,  do,  Loughead,"  said  Jasper, 
dragging  forward  a  chair,  and  falling  into  one 
himself,  just  beginning  to  be  conscious  of  a  stiff 
pair  of  legs. 

Jack  Loughead  set  his  hat  on  the  table,  and 
himself  in  the  chair  that  Jasper  proffered. 
Then  he  fell  to  tapping  the  tip  of  his  shining 
boot  with  his  walking  stick. 

"  King,  I  came  here  to  ask  you  something, 
that  if  I  didn't  trust  you  so  well  I  could  never 
ask  in  all  the  world.  But  I  feel  I  can  trust 
you." 

"  Oh,  don't  —  don't,"  begged  Jasper,  putting 
up  an  unsteady  hand  to  ward  off  the  dreaded 
subject.  "Don't  tell  me  anything,  Loughead." 

"  Well,  I  will  ask  you  something,  then,"  said 
Jack  Loughead  coolly.  "  I'm  a  business  man, 
King,  and  I  must  come  to  the  point  in  a  busi- 
ness way.  First,  let  me  tell  you  that  Uncle 
and  I  start  for  Australia  in  a  fortnight ; "  Jasper 
drew  a  long  breath  of  relief.  "  Yes,  I  must 


MR.    KING    ATTENDS    TO    MATTERS.         389 

get  back ;  and  you  will  see  that  I  cannot 
go  without,"  Jack  Loughead  paused  —  then 
went  oh  abruptly.  "  Does  Miss  Pepper  care 
for  Pickering  Dodge  ?  " 

"  How  do  I  know  —  how  can  I  tell  ?  "  cried 
Jasper  desperately,  and  springing  from  his 
chair,  he  began  to  pace  the  floor  again.  "  Ex- 
cuse me,  Loughead,  I'm  not  myself  to-day. 
I've  left  D.  Marlowe  &  Co.  and  "  - 

"  Yes,  I  know,"  interrupted  Jack,  and  draw- 
ing a  long  breath  of  relief  on  his  part  at  being 
able  to  speak  on  this  subject  now  that  the  ice 
was  broken  ;  "  well,  I'm  glad,  of  course,  King, 
if  you  didn't  care  to  stay,"  he  said. 

"  But  I  did,"  cried  Jasper,  stopping  short,  to 
emphasize  this.  "  Mr.  Marlowe  is  a  royal  man, 
through  and  through,  and  I'd  work  for  him  all 
my  life.  But  my  father  thought  best  not ; 
that's  enough,"  he  added  in  the  abruptest  fash- 
ion, beginning  to  walk  again. 

"  Yes  ;  well,  I  see,"  said  Jack.  "  I  know  a 
little  what  well-meaning  relatives  can  do  to 
make  a  young  man's  life  miserable.  I'm  sorry, 
King,"  and  he  looked  truly  wretched  over  it. 

"  And   you  must  forgive  anything    strange 


390    MR.  KING  ATTENDS  TO  MATTERS. 

about  me  to-day,"  said  Jasper,  walking  on 
hurriedly,  "  for  I  am  all  upset." 

"  Yes,  I  know,"  repeated  Jack  Loughead, 
"  nothing  breaks  a  man  up  like  wrenching  him 
from  his  work.  King,"  he  sprang  to  his  feet 
and  joined  Jasper  walking  on  by  his  side  down 
the  room,  "you  are  Miss  Pepper's  brother, 
or  as  good  as  one.  Can  you  tell  me  if  I  shall 
wrong  Pickering  Dodge  if  I  speak  to  her  ?  " 

Jasper  was  saved  from  answering  by  old 
Mr.  King  coming  in  with  a  "  Oh,  how  d'ye, 
Loughead  ?  Well,  well,  Jasper,  you've  had 
a  good  nap,  I  take  it."  And  then  all  three 
went  down  to  luncheon,  and  Jasper  managed 
not  to  be  left  alone  with  Jack  Loughead  until 
at  the  last  when  he  said,  "  I  shall  go  and  tell 
the  whole  story  to  Mrs.  Fisher;  of  course  I 
must  speak  to  her  first." 

«  Halloo,  Dave  !  "  It  was  such  a  remark- 
able cry  that  David  turned  at  once,  although  he 
was  almost  on  a  dead  run  across  the  campus. 

"Hey,  there!"  shouted  Percy  Whitney  as 
David  turned.  "  Whew !  How  you  do  go, 
Dave." 


MR.    KING    ATTENDS    TO    MATTERS.         391 

"  What's  the  matter  ?  "  cried  David,  running 
lightly  back  to  stand  in  front  of  Percy.  "  Dear 
me,  Percy,  you  have  lost  your  eyeglasses !  " 
with  a  glance  at  the  other's  flushed  face ;  "  wait, 
I'll  find  the  things." 

"  I  yelled  my  lungs  sore,"  said  Percy  in  irri- 
tation, dropping  down  on  his  knees  to  pass  his 
hands  carefully  over  the  campus  grass,  "  and 
now  I've  lost  these.  Bad  luck  to  you,  Dave, 
for  it !  " 

"  Oh !  go  without  'em,"  said  David,  getting 
gingerly  down  on  all-fours  to  prowl  around  on 
the  greensward. 

"  Go  without  'em  ?  "  repeated  Percy,  sitting 
straight  in  indignation.  "  How  could  I  see, 
pray  tell  ?  Don't  be  a  donkey,  Dave." 

David  said  nothing,  but  fell  to  a  more  dili- 
gent search,  while  Percy  bewailed  his  loss 
watching  eagerly  David's  nimble  fingers  mov- 
ing in  and  out  of  the  little  tufts  of  grass. 

"  Shades  of  the  departed  specs,"  cried  David, 
also  sitting  straight  and  peering  with  his  keen 
blue  eyes  in  a  birdlike  way  along  the  sward. 
"  It's  a  mysteri  —  oh,  Great  Caesar !  "  then  he 
fell  on  his  back  on  the  campus,  and  rolled  and 


392         MK.    KING    ATTENDS    TO    MATTERS. 

laughed,  to  bring  up  red  and  shining,  only  to 
tumble  over  and  roll  again. 

"  Of  all  the  idiots  in  the  universe,  Dave 
Pepper,"  fumed  Percy.  "  What's  the  matter?" 

"  Your  trouble  has  gone  to  your  head,"  said 
David  faintly.  "  Feel  and  see  ;  oh  dear !  " 


HOW   YOU     CAN   SIT    THKRK    AND     LAUGH    WHEN   JOE    IS    IN 
DANGER,    I    DON'T   SEE,"    EXCLAIMED   PEKCY    1HKITABLY. 

Percy's  hand  flew  up  to  his  thick  mane  of 
brown  hair,  that  not  all  his  disgust  and  tireless 
training  could  persuade  to  lie  smoothly,  when 
he  picked  off  his  beloved  glasses,  after  an 
angry  twitch  or  two. 


MR.    KING    ATTENDS    TO    MATTERS.         393 

"  How  you  can  sit  there  and  laugh  when  Joe 
is  in  danger,  I  don't  see,"  he  exclaimed  irritably, 
adjusting  them  to  his  nose.  "  I've  nearly  killed 
myself  to  catch  you,  and  " 

"  Joe  in  danger !  "  cried  David,  on  his  feet 
in  an  instant.  "  Oh,  Percy,  what  do  you  mean  V  " 
his  cheeks  whitening,  and  his  blue  eyes  agleam. 

"  Joel's  brought  it  on  himself,"  said  Percy, 
his  irritation  not  going  down.  "  I  must  say, 
Dave,  if  he'd  behave  more  like  the  rest  of  us, 
he'd  be  "  — 

Then  Polly's  words,  "  Oh,  dear,  beautiful 
Joel ! "  came  to  mind,  and  lie  coughed  violently, 
holding  fast  the  eyeglasses  in  their  place. 

"  What  danger  ? "  demanded  David,  in  his 
impatience  shaking  Percy's  arm. 

"  Well,  you  must  know,  after  last  night's 
performance  over  Joe,  that  they  wouldn't  let 
him  alone." 

"  Last  night's  performance  over  Joel  ? "  re- 
peated David  in  astonishment.  "  What  yarn 
are  you  spinning  now,  Percy?" 

"  Goodness  sake,  you  are  yarning  yourself," 
retorted  Percy  indignantly,  "  to  pretend  that 
you  don't  know  that  last  night  a  dozen  or  more 


394     MR.  KING  ATTENDS  TO  MATTERS. 

fellows  called  on  Joe,  and  he  handled  'em  with- 
out gloves,  so  that  Bingley  and  Dobbs  can't 
hardly  step  to-day." 

"  It's  the  first  word  I've  heard  of  it,"  said 
David  slowly,  but  emphatically,  and  staggering 
back  a  step  or  two  to  look  at  Percy.  "  I  was 
out  all  the  evening.  Oh,  magnificent  old  Joe  !  " 

"  Magnificent  old  Joe  !  "  repeated  Percy, 
"  you  better  say  '  poor  Joe,'  when  you  know 
what  they  are  intending  to  give  him." 


CHAPTER   XIX. 

MOTHER    FISHER    AND    CHARLOTTE. 

DAVID'S    blue    eyes    flashed    dangerously. 
"Tell    all   you    know,    Percy,"    he    said 
briefly. 

"Dobbs  heads  it,  as  he  did  the  first  one," 
said  Percy ;  "  they've  changed  their  tactics, 
and  will  get  at  Joe  on  their  way  home  from 
that  confounded  meeting.  Dave,  can't  you 
keep  him  from  that  ? "  and  Percy,  forgetting 
himself,  peered  anxiously  over  his  glasses. 
"No,"  said  David  shortly,  "and  I  sha'n't  try." 
"  You're  an  idiot,"  cried  Percy,  in  a  passion, 
"a  stupid,  blind  old  donkey!  Joe  will  be 
mauled  dreadfully,"  he  howled,  beating  his 
hands  together  in  distress ;  "  no  help  for  it  but 
to  keep  him  away  from  that  old  association 
meeting." 

"Anything    more   to    tell?"    asked    David. 
395 


396        MOTHER    FISHER    AND    CHARLOTTE. 

"  No,"  Percy  shot  out.  "  Bingley  told  me 
all  he  knew ;  hut  they  wouldn't  let  him  catch 
much  of  it,  because  he's  left  the  gang  " 

David's  feet  by  this  time  were  flying  over 
the  Campus,  so  that  Percy  was  obliged  to 
shout  the  remainder  of  the  sentence  after  him. 
The  consequence  was  that  several  heads  were 
popped  out  of  as  many  windows  in  the  long  gray 
dormitory  fronting  the  Campus,  their  owners 
all  engaged  in  the  pleasing  duty  of  staring  at 
Percy  and  the  flying  figure  across  the  grass. 

"Now  I'm  in  for  it,  for  there's  Dobbs,  I 
vow,"  exclaimed  Percy  to  himself,  in  dismay ; 
"he'll  guess  I've  given  Dave  warning,"  and 
he  tried  to  strike  a  careless  attitude,  picking 
off  his  glasses  to  hold  them  up  and  gaze  long 
and  earnestly  through  them  into  the  nearest 
tree. 

"  You  can't  come  it,"  jeered  Dobbs,  from  his 
window.  "No  birdsnesting,  I  promise  you, 
Whitney ;  ha,  ha ! "  And  the  other  heads 
popped  farther  out  than  ever,  to  add  a  few  hisses. 

Percy,  maddened  by  the  failure  of  his  plan 
to  divert  suspicion,  now  lost  his  head  entirely, 
and  sticking  his  eyeglasses  on  again,  ran  off 


MOTHER    FISHER    AND    CHARLOTTE.        397 

like  lightning  to  his  room,  followed  by  "  Little 
coward,  we'll  treat  you  too  —  Look  out !  " 

"  Well,  Jasper  ;  now  I'm  bound  for  the  next 
thing  —  Percy  and  Joel  and  David,"  declared 
old  Mr.  King  as  Jack  Loughead  was  cleverly 
off ;  "  we  are  so  near,  it's  a  pity  not  to  drop 
down  on  them." 

"  Don't  you  think  you  ought  to  hurry  back 
to  Brierly  ?  "  asked  Jasper,  having  hard  work 
not  to  show  that  he  cared  anything  about  it 
one  way  or  the  other. 

"  No,  I  don't,"  answered  his  father,  in  his 
crispest  fashion.  "  No  one  needs  me  there ; 
Mrs.  Cabot  is  a  host  in  herself,  and  those  boys 
may  —  who  knows  ?  At  any  rate,  I  must  see 
how  they  are  getting  on,  so  we  will  go  as 
soon  as  you  can  get  your  things  packed  and 
sent  home,"  and  the  old  gentleman  glanced 
around  the  room  at  the  various  keepsakes  and 
family  adornings  that  Jasper  had  brought  with 
him  to  make  life  less  lonely  while  he  made  a 
business  man  of  himself. 

"Very  well,  father,"  said  Jasper,  he  could 
not  trust  himself  to  say  more  ;  and  for  the 


398       MOTHER    FISHER    AND    CHARLOTTE. 

first  time  had  to  hurry  away  that  his  father 
might  not  see  his  face.  But  old  Mr.  King  was 
the  farthest  removed  from  carrying  the  look 
of  a  person  holding  any  interest  whatever  in 
Jasper's  trouble,  for  he  went  on  to  say,  "  And 
I  do  hope  you  will  get  it  over  with  as  quickly 
as  possible,  Jasper,  so  that  we  may  be  off," 
then  he  fell  to  reading  the  evening  paper  with 
great  gusto. 

Jasper  seized  his  hat,  rushed  down  stairs  two 
steps  at  a  time,  nearly  overturning  Buttons 
leaning  on  the  post  at  the  foot. 

<, 

"Oh  !  beg  pardon,"  said  Jasper,  quite  as  if  it 
had  been  a  gentleman  he  had  run  against. 

"  You  hain't  hurt  me  none,"  said  Buttons, 
staggering  back  to  his  support,  where  he  craned 
his  neck  in  curiosity  to  watch  young  Mr.  King's 
impatience. 

Once  out  in  the  park,  a  half-mile  away,  his 
hands  thrust  in  their  pockets,  Jasper  slackened 
his  pace,  and  breathed  freer.  Before  him 
seemed  to  be  the  little  brown  house ;  it  was 
the  first  time  he  had  seen  Mrs.  Pepper  —  and 
they  had  just  finished  their  long  talk,  when  the 
mother  had  thanked  him  for  rescuing  Phronsie 


MOTHER    FISHER    AND    CHARLOTTE. 

from  the  organ-grinder.  The  five  little  Peppers 
were  begging  him  to  come  over  again  to  see  them, 
but  Mrs.  Pepper  laid  her  hand  on  his  arm.  "  Be 
sure,  Jasper,"  she  warned,  "  that  your  father  is 
willing."  He  could  see  her  black  eyes  looking 
down  into  his  face.  What  would  she  say  now? 
Jasper  threw  himself  down  on  one  of  the 
seats  under  a  friendly  tree.  *  At  least,  Polly, 
you  sha'n't  be  ashamed  of  me,"  he  said  in  a  mo- 
ment or  two,  "  and  dear  Mrs.  Fisher,"  then 
he  walked  quietly  off  to  make  the  last  prepara- 
tions that  his  father  had  ordered. 

"  Well,  now,  Charlotte,"  said  Mrs.  Fisher, 
"you  needn't  worry,  not  a  single  bit,"  and  she 
went  on  calmly  sorting  out  the  small  flannel 
petticoats  in  her  lap.  "That  is  rather  thin," 
she  said,  holding  up  one  between  her  eyes  and 
the  light ;  "  King  Fisher,  how  you  do  kick 
things  out ! " 

"  Mrs.  Fisher !  "  exclaimed  Charlotte  Chat- 
terton  in  amazement,  "  how  can  you  sit  picking 
over  flannel  petticoats,  when  perhaps  Polly 
will  —  oh,  do  excuse  me,"  she  broke  off  hastily, 
"  for  speaking  so." 


400       MOTHER    FISHER    AND    CHARLOTTE. 

"  Polly?  I'd  trust  my  girl  to  know  what  was 
sense,  and  what  was  nonsense,"  declared  Mother 
Fisher  crisply,  and  not  taking  off  her  attention 
in  the  slightest  from  Baby's  petticoats. 

"Ar-goo — ar-goo!"  screamed  little  King. 

"  So  we  would  —  wouldn't  we,  Birdie  ?  "  she 
said,  nodding  at  him. 

"  But  people  flo  such  very  strange  things  in 
—  in — love,"  said  Charlotte,  her  face  full  of 
distress,  "  I  mean  when  love  is  in  the  question, 
Mrs.  Fisher." 

"Polly  doesn't,"  said  Mrs.  Fisher  scornfully. 
"  Polly  has  never  been  in  love ;  why,  she  is 
only  twenty." 

Charlotte  gave  an  uneasy  whirl  and  rushed 
off  to  the  window. 

"  And  there's  that  dreadful,  hateful  Mrs. 
Cabot,"  she  cried,  plunging  back,  her  pale  eyes 
afire.  "  Oh  !  I  feel  so  wicked,  Mrs.  Fisher,  when- 
ever I  think  of  her,  I'd  like  to  tear  her,  I  would, 
for  picking  at  Polly,"  she  declared  with  venom. 

"You  needn't  be  afraid,"  repeated  Mrs. 
Fisher  calmly,  "  Polly  knows  Mrs.  Cabot 
through  and  through,  and  will  never  be  influ- 
enced by  anything  she  says." 


MOTHER    FISHER    AND    CHARLOTTE.        40i 

"  Oh,  dear,  dear,  dear !  "  cried  Charlotte, 
wringing  her  long  hands,  "  and  there's  that 
Mr.  Longhead,  and  everything  is  mixed  up,  and 
I  can't  frighten  you." 

"  Now,  just  see  here,  Charlotte,"  cried  Mother 
Fisher,  casting  aside  the  flannel  petticoats  to 
look  up,  "you  must  just  put  your  mind  off 
from  all  this  ;  I  should  neVer  know  you,  rny 
girl,  you  are  always  so  sensible  and  quiet. 
Why,  Charlotte,  what  has  gotten  into  you?" 

"  That's  just  it,"  cried  Charlotte,  a  pink  pas- 
sion in  her  sallow  cheeks,  "  everybody  thinks 
because  I  don't  rant  every  day,  that  I  haven't 
any  more  feeling  than  a  stick  or  a  stone.  Oh  ! 
do  excuse  me,  Mrs.  Fisher,  but  I  love  Polly 
so!"  And  she  flung  herself  down  on  her 
knees,  burying  her  face  among  the  little  flannel 
petticoats  in  Mother  Fisher's  lap. 

"There — there,  my  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Fisher, 
smoothing  Charlotte's  pale  straight  hair,  "  of 
course  you  love  Polly  ;  everybody  does." 

"  And  T  don't  —  don't  want  her  to  marry 
that  Pickering  Dodge,"  mumbled  Charlotte. 

"  Certainly  not ;  and  she's  no  more  likely  to 
marry  him  than  you  are,"  said  Mrs.  Fisher 


402        MOTHER    FISHER    AND    CHARLOTTE. 

coolly,  giving  gentle  pats  to  Charlotte's  head, 
while  King  Fisher  screamed  and  twitched  his 
mother's  gown  in  anger  to  see  the  petting 
going  on. 

"  Well,  now  I  have  two  babies,"  said  Mother 
Fisher,  with  a  smile,  lifting  him  up  to  her  lap, 
where  he  amused  himself  by  beating  on  Char- 
lotte's-head  with  both  fat  fists,  till  his  mother 
seized  them  with  one  hand,  while  she  gently 
smoothed  the  girl's  hair  with  the  other. 
"  Polly  can  be  trusted  anywhere ;  and  when 
she  is  in  too  much  of  a  dilemma,  then  she 
brings  everything  to  mother." 

Charlotte  sat  up  straight  and  wiped  her 
eyes. 

"  And  we've  got  somebody  else  to  worry 
about  much  more,  and  all  our  sympathies  ought 
to  go  out  to  him,"  said  Mrs.  Fisher  gravely. 

"  Charlotte,  I  don't  mind  telling  you  that  I 
am  dreadfully  sorry  that  Grandpapa  has  taken 
Jasper  away  from  his  business."  She  sat  King 
Fisher  abruptly  on  the  floor,  all  the  little 
petticoats  tumbling  after  him,  and  walked 
away  so  that  Charlotte  «ould  not  see  her  face. 
"  Poor  Jasper,  he  loved  his  work  so." 


MOTHER    FISHER    AND    CHARLOTTE.         405 

"  And  that's  just  it,"  gasped  Charlotte,  some- 
how finding  her  feet  to  hurry  over  to  Mrs. 
Fisher,  "Jasper  has  lost  his  work,  and  now 
oh  dear  !  —  oh  !  can't  you  see,  Mrs.  Fisher  " 
and  then  frightened  at  her  boldness,  she  ran 
back  to  Baby. 

"  Charlotte  Chatterton ! "  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Fisher.  There  was  something  so  dreadful  in 
her  tone,  that  Charlotte,  without  a  word,  ran 
out  of  the  room  —  to  meet  little  Dr.  Fisher 
hurrying  upstairs  with  his  hands  full  of  letters. 
"  A  whole  budget  from  Brierly,"  he  announced 
joyfully  ;  "  two  for  you,  my  girl,"  casting  them 
into  her  hands.  "And  the  folks  are  coming 
home  next  week ;  that  is,  our  folks  —  good 
news  —  eh,  Charlotte  ? "  then  he  sped  on  to 
find  his  wife. 

And  at  dinner  Charlotte,  sitting  pale  and 
immovable  amidst  all  the  chat,  let  the  news  of 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Mason  Whitney's  and  Dick's  de- 
termination to  come  on  to  greet  the  arrivals 
from  the  Brierly  farmhouse,  fall  on  apparently 
unheeding  ears. 

"  Charlotte ! "  cried  Dr.  Fisher  at  last,  look- 
ing at  her  through  his  big  spectacles,  "  why,  I 


406          MOTHER    FISHER    AND    CHARLOTTE. 

thought  you  would  rejoice  with  us,"  he  added 
reproachfully. 

"  Adoniram,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Fisher  across 
the  table,  for  the  first  time  in  her  life  looking 
as  if  she  would  like  to  step  on  his  toes.  The 
little  doctor  stared  at  her  a  moment  —  "  Oh  — 
er  —  never  mind,  my  dear,"  he  cried  abruptly, 
turning  to  Charlotte.  "  I  suppose  you  do  not 
feel  well." 

"  Yes,  I  do  feel  well,"  said  Charlotte  truth- 
fully, not  daring  to  look  at  Mrs.  Fisher,  but 
keeping  her  eyes  on  the  tablecloth. 

"  I  have  a  letter  from  Mr.  King  —  a  very  long 
one ;  he  is  going  to  see  Joel  and  David," 
Mother  Fisher  made  haste  to  say ;  "  I  hope 
he  hasn't  heard  anything  wrong  about  them,1' 
and  a  little  anxious  pucker  came  on  her 
forehead. 

Charlotte  Chatterton  glanced  up  quickly,  and 
seeing  it,  "  Oh,  I  do  believe  everything  is  all 
right,  Mrs.  Fisher,"  she  exclaimed  involuntarily. 

Mother  Fisher  looked  straight  at  her  with 
one  of  her  brightest  smiles.  "  I  guess  so," 
she  said,  her  brow  clearing. 

And  after  they  had  pulled  back  their  chairs 


MOTHER    FISHER    AND    CHARLOTTE.        407 

from  the  table,  and  the  little  doctor  had  gone 
into  his  office  for  a  minute,  Mrs.  Fisher  fol- 
lowed Charlotte  out  into  the  hall. 

"  Charlotte,"  and  she  put  both  hands  on  the 
girl's  shoulders,  "you  and  I  won't  meddle  with 
the  Lord's  will  for  Polly.  Promise  me  that 
you'll  not  say  one  word  of  what  we  were  talk- 
ing, to  any  one." 

«  I  won't ! "  said  Charlotte  Chatterton. 

"  And  now,"  said  Mother  Fisher,  dropping 
her  arms  and  resuming  her  usual  cheery  man- 
ner, "  you  and  I,  Charlotte,  have  got  to  put  our 
minds  on  getting  ready  for  the  Whitneys  and 
the  home-coming,  and  we  must  make  it  just 
the  brightest  time  that  ever  was.  I'm  no  good 
at  thinking  up  ways  to  celebrate,"  added  Mrs. 
Fisher,  with  a  little  laugh,  "  Polly  always  did 
that ;  so  you  must  do  it  for  me,  you  and  the 
doctor,  Charlotte.  And  you  better  run  in  to 
his  office  now  and  make  a  beginning,  for  next 
week  will  come  before  we  know  it,"  and  with 
a  motherly  pat,  and  a  "  run  along,  child,"  Mrs. 
Fisher  waited  to  see  Charlotte  well  on  the  way 
before  she  turned  to  her  own  duties. 

"•  Come  in  !  "  cried  little  Dr.  Fisher,  as  she 


408         MOTHER    FISHER    AND    CHARLOTTJfi. 

rapped  at  the  office  door.  "  Oh,  it's  you,  Char- 
lotte," with  a  sigh  of  relief ;  "  I'm  sure  I  don't 
feel  much  like  dragging  on  my  boots  and  going 
off  to  the  Land's  End  to-night,  on  a  call." 

"  Mrs.  Fisher  thought  I  ought  to  come  and  see 
you,  sir,  about  getting  up  a  plan  to  celebrate 
the  home-coming  next  week,"  said  Charlotte, 
feeling  her  heart  bounding  already  with  delight. 
Would  they  really  all  be  together  in  a  week  ? 

"  Now  that's  something  like,"  exclaimed  Dr. 
Fisher  joyfully,  and  pushing  aside  with  a  reck- 
less hand  his  books  and  vials  on  the  table  ;  "  sit 
down,  do,  Charlotte ;  there,"  as  Charlotte  set- 
tled her  long  figure  in  the  opposite  chair. 
«  Now  then  !  " 

"  I  never  got  up  a  plan  to  celebrate  anything 
in  my  life,"  said  Charlotte,  folding  her  hands 
in  dismay. 

"Nor  I  either,"  confessed  the  little  doctor 
in  an  equal  tremor,  ".Polly  was  always  great  at 
those  things.  But  I  suppose  that's  the  reason 
my  wife  set  us  two  together,  Charlotte,  for 
she's  the  wisest  of  women,  and  perhaps  we 
ought  to  learn  how  to  get  up  celebrations." 

"  If   only    Phronsie    were   home,"  breathed 


MOTHER    FISHER    AND    CHARLOTTE.        409 

Charlotte  wistfully.     "  I'm  so  afraid  our  affair 
will  be  worse  than  nothing." 

"  I  dare  say,"  replied  the  little  doctor  cheer- 


"l'VE     ALWAYS    FOUND,"     SAID     DR.     FISHER,     "THAT     ALL 
YOU   HAD   TO  DO  TO    START   A  THING,    WAS   TO    BF.GIN." 

ily,  "but  we  can  try,  and  that  goes  a  great  way, 
Charlotte  —  trying  does." 

Charlotte  drew  a  long  breath  and  moved 
uneasily  in  her  chair.  "  If  we  only  knew  how 
to  begin,"  she  said  at  last  doubtfully. 

"  I've  always  found,"  said  Dr.  Fisher,  spring- 


410        MOTHER    FISHER    AND    CHARLOTTE. 

ing  from  his  chair,  "  that  all  you  had  to  do  to 
start  a  thing  was  to  —  begin." 

"Yes,  that's  just  it,"  ruminated  Charlotte, 
bringing  up  her  hands  to  hold  her  head  with, 
"  I  think  we  are  in  a  tight  place,  Dr.  Fisher." 

"  Hum,  that  may  be,"  assented  the  little 
man,  "  I  like  tight  places.  Now,  then,  Char- 
lotte, how  do  you  say  begin  ?" 

Charlotte  sat  lost  in  thought  for  a  minute, 
then  she  said,  "  Any  way,  I  think  it  would  be 
best  for  us  to  get  up  something  very  simple,  so 
long  as  we  are  beginners." 

"  I  think  so  too,"  agreed  Dr.  Fisher,  "  so 
that's  settled.  Now  for  the  first  thing ;  what  do 
you  say  we  should  do,  Charlotte  ?  " 

"How  would  it  do,"  asked  Charlotte  sud- 
denly, "to  invite  everybody  after  they  have 
gotten  over  the  first  of  the  home-coming  —  after 
dinner,  I  mean  — into  the  drawing-room,  and 
then  tell  them  that  we  are  not  smart  enough 
to  think  up  things,  and  ask  them  to  give  a 
recitation  apiece,  or  something  of  that  sort  ?  " 

"  Charlotte  Chatterton  ! "  exclaimed  the  lit- 
tle doctor,  cramming  his  hands  into  the  side 
pockets  of  his  office  coat  and  staring  at  her, 


MOTHER    FISHER    AND    CHARLOTTE.        411 

"  I  am  ashamed  of  you  !  that  would  be  shabby 

enough  —  not  so  bad  either,"  he  added  quickly, 

.* 

a  sudden  thought  striking  him,  "  as  you'll  do 

your  part  in  singing." 

"  Oh !  I  couldn't  sing,"  cried  Charlotte, 
drawing  back  into  her  shell  of  coldness  again, 
"  they  don't  any  of  them  care  for  it ;  they've 
heard  me  so  much,"  she  finished,  trying  to 
smooth  her  refusal  over. 

"You'll  sing,"  declared  the  little  doctor  de- 
cidedly, "  we  could  never  be  tired  of  hearing 
you ;  and  for  the  rest,  I  have  a  notion  that 
this  might  suit.  See  here,"  and  he  threw  him- 
self into  his  office  chair,  and  looked  Charlotte 
squarely  in  the  face,  "  why  not  ask  Alexia  and 
Cathie  and  the  others,  to  take  hold  and  get 
up  some  fandango  — eh  ?  " 

Charlotte  caught  herself  on  the  edge  of  say- 
ing "  No,"  then  drew  a  long  breath  and  said, 
"  Well,"  trying  not  to  seem  indifferent  over  the 
plan. 

"  Don't  like  it  —  eh  ?  "  asked  Dr.  Fisher, 
regarding  her  keenly. 

"  It  might  be  the  best  thing  in  the  world," 
said  Charlotte  slowly.  "  Those  girls  act  splen- 


412        MOTHEB    FISHER    AND    CHARLOTTE. 

didly ;  they've  had  little  plays  so  often,  and 
Polly  has  drilled  them,  that  they'll  know  just 
how  to  go  to  work,  an<$  it  will  please  Polly. 
Oh,  yes,  do  let  us  have  that,"  she  cried,  begin- 
ning to  wax  quite  enthusiastic. 

"It  will  please  them  too,"  said  the  little 
man,  not  withdrawing  his  gaze. 

"Yes,  it  will  please  them,"  said  Charlotte, 
after  a  minute,  "  and  I  will  run  over  in  the 
morning  and  ask  them." 

"  That's  good  !  "  cried  Dr.  Fisher,  bringing 
his  hands  together  with  a  joyful  clap ;  and  get- 
ting out  of  his  chair  he  began  to  skip  up  and 
down  like  a  boy.  "And  let  Amy  Loughead 
do  the  piano  music,  do  ;  that  will  please  Polly 
to  see  how  the  child  has  gone  ahead.  I  can't 
hardly  believe  Miss  Salisbury  ;  she  tells  me  the 
chit  practices  every  minute  she  can  save  from 
other  things.  Be  sure  to  have  her  asked, 
Charlotte,  child." 

"  I  will  ask  Amy,"  promised  Charlotte,  with 
a  pang  at  the  thought  of  the  delight  over  Jack 
Loughead's  handsome  face  at  her  invitation. 

"And  you  are  to  sing,"  cried  the  little  doc- 
tor jubilantly.  "  Now  we  are  all  capitally 


MOTHER    FISHER    AND    CHARLOTTE.        413 

fixed.  It  takes  you  and  me  to  get  up  celebra- 
tions, doesn't  it  ?  "  and  he  stood  as  tall  as  he 
could  and  beamed  at  her.  "  I'd  go  over  as 
early  as  I  could,  Charlotte,"  he  advised,  "  and 
tell  those  girls,  because  you  know  a  week  isn't 
much  to  get  ready  in." 

"  I  will,"  said  Charlotte,  "  go  the  very  first 
thing  after  breakfast." 

And  after  breakfast,  the  next  morning,  she 
tied  her  hat  on,  and  not  trusting  herself  to 
think  of  her  expedition,  actually  ran  down  the 
long  carriage  drive  to  the  avenue  —  then  walk- 
ing at  her  best  pace,  she  stood  before  Alexia 
Rhys'  door  and  rang  the  bell. 

"  There,  now,  I  can't  go  back,"  she  said  to 
herself,  and  in  a  minute  or  two  she  was  in  the 
reception  room,  and  Alexia  Rhys  was  running 
over  the  stairs  and  standing  with  a  puzzled 
expression  on  her  face,  before  her. 

"Oh,  my  goodness  me  —  oh,  oh  !  "  exclaimed 
Alexia,  with  a  little  laugh.  "  Is  this  you,  Miss 
Chatterton  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Charlotte  Chatterton,  "  I  came 
to  ask  if  you  would  get  up  something  nice 
to  celebrate  the  home-coming  of  all  the  family 


414       MOTHER    FISHER    AND    CHARLOTTE. 

* 

from  Brierly ;  and  Mr.  Whitney's  family  are  to 
come  too,  next  week.     Will  you,  Miss  Rhys  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  never ! "  cried  Alexia  Rhys,  sink- 
ing into  the  first  chair  she  could  find.  "You 
want  me  —  I  shouldn't  think  you  would,"  she 
added  truthfully. 

"  I  didn't  at  first,"  said  Charlotte  Chatterton, 
"  but  I  do  now,  Miss  Rhys  —  oh  !  very  much, 
you  and  Miss  Harrison,  and  all  those  girls  — 
you  can  get  up  something  beautiful ;  and  Dr. 
Fisher  and  I  don't  in  the  least  know  how,  and 
we  want  you  to  do  it."  Then  she  sat  quite  still. 

"  Well,  I  declare  !  "  cried  Alexia  Rhys,  un- 
able to  find  another  word.  Then  she  looked 
out  of  the  window.  "Oh,  here's  Clem,"  and, 
rushing  out,  Charlotte  could  hear  a  whispered 
consultation  with,  "  Did  you  ever?"  and  "I'm 
awfully  ashamed,"  while  Clem's  voice  said, 
«  So  am  I." 

"  Well,  come  in,"  said  Alexia  audibly  at  last, 
dragging  Clem  after  her  into  the  reception 
room,  "  we've  got  to  do  what's  right  now, 
any  way." 

"  I'm  awfully  ashamed,  Miss  Chatterton," 
said  Clem  Forsythe,  going  straight  to  Char- 


MOTHER    FISHER    AND    CHARLOTTE.        415 

lotte's  chair  and  putting  out  her  hand ;  "  we 
girls  haven't  been  right  to  you  since  you  came, 
and  I,  for  one,  want  to  ask  your  pardon." 

"  Dear  me,  so  do  I,"  cried  Alexia,  crowding 
in  between  with  an  eager  hand  stretched  out, 
"  but  what  good  will  that  do  —  we  said  things, 
at  least  I  did  the  most.  Oh,  my  hateful 
tongue ! " 

"  If  you'll  only  take  hold  and  make  a  nice 
celebration  for  Polly  and  all  the  others,  that 
will  be  all  I'd  want,"  said  Charlotte.  "  Thank 
you,  you  are  so  good,"  she  brought  up  happily. 

"  And  then  we'll  do  something  for  you  some 
time,"  declared  Alexia,  "  all  for  yourself,  won't 
we,  Clem — something  perfectly  elegantly 
splendid  ?  " 


CHAPTER   XX. 

STRAIGHTENING    OUT    AFFAIRS. 

TWO  days  after,  old  Mr.  King  was  walk- 
ing over  the  college  campus,  bound  for 
Joel's  and  David's  room  in  the  "  Old  Brick 
Dormitory." 

"  I  am  glad  I  sent  Jasper  ahead  to  the  hotel ; 
I  much  rather  pop  in  on  the  boys  by  myself," 
soliloquized  the  old  gentleman  in  great  satis- 
faction. "Ah,  here  it  is,"  beginning  to  mount 
the  stairs. 

"  Come  in,"  yelled  a  voice,  as  he  rapped1  with 
his  walking-stick  on  the  door  of  No.  19,  «  and 
don't  make  such  a  piece  of  work  breaking  the 
door  down  —  oh,  beg  pardon  ! "  as  Mr.  King 
obeyed  the  order. 

A  tall  figure  sprawled  in  the  biggest  chair, 
his  long  legs  carried  up  to  the  mantel,  where 
his  boots  neatly  reposed ;  while  a  cloud  of 
416 


STRAIGHTENING    OUT    AFFAIRS.  417 

smoke  filling  the  room,  made  Mr.  King  cough 
violently  in  spite  of  himself. 

"'Tis  a  nasty  air,"  said  the  tall  young  man, 
getting  his  legs  down  in  haste  from  the  mantel, 
and  himself  out  of  the  chair,  though  with  much 
difficulty ;  "  take  a  glass  of  water,  sir,"  hobbling 
over  to  a  side  table,  and  pouring  one  out,  to 
work  his  way  with  it  to  old  Mr.  King. 

"  Thank  you,"  said  the  old  gentleman,  when 
he  could  speak,  and  accepting  it  quickly,  "  you 
say  truly,  the  air  is  beastly,"  glancing  around 
the  room  in  displeasure  at  the  plentiful  signs 
of  its  inmates'  idea  of  having  a  good  time  at 
college.  "  Are  Joel  and  David  Pepper  soon  to 
be  in  ? "  As  he  spoke,  he  lifted  up  the  cover 
of  a  French  novel  thrown  on  the  lounge  near 
him,  and  dropped  it  quickly  as  he  read  the  title. 

"  Hey  ?  oh  !  I  see  —  a  little  mistake,"  ex- 
claimed the  tall  youth,  going  unsteadily  back 
to  his  chair.  "  Their  room  is  19,  in  the  exten- 
sion. I  am  Robert  Bingley,  sir." 

"  I'm  very  glad,"  cried  old  Mr.  King  heartily, 
"for  I  don't  mind  telling  you,  my  young  friend, 
that  I  shouldn't  want  Joel's  and  David's  room 
to  look  like  this." 


418  STRAIGHTENING    OUT    AFFAIRS. 

"  I  don't  blame  you  in  the  least,  sir,"  said 
Bingley,  nowise  abashed,  "but  you  needn't 
worry,  for  the  Peppers  aren't  my  kind.  You 
must  be  Grandfather  King  ?  "  he  added. 

"  Yes,  I  am,"  said  old  Mr.  King,  straighten- 
ing up,  and  throwing  back  his  white  hair  with 
a  proud  gesture.  "So  you've  heard  about 
me  ?  "  he  asked,  in  a  gratified  way. 

"  I  should  rather  think  we  had,"  said  Bingley, 
"  why,  all  of  us  know  about  you,  sir."  Here  he 
got  out  of  his  chair  again.  "  You  won't  care 
to,  after  you  know  all,  but  I  should  like  to  shake 
hands  with  you,  sir." 

"  Most  certainly,"  responded  the  old  gentle- 
man heartily,  "  although  your  room  isn't  to  your 
credit."  Thereupon  he  bestowed  a  courtly 
hand-shake  upon  the  young  man,  with  the  ut- 
most cordiality,  making  Bingley,  who  seemed 
to  have  a  good  deal  of  trouble  with  his  legs,  to 
retreat  to  his  chair  in  a  high  state  of  satisfaction. 

"  It  was  mean  of  me  to  ask  you  such  a  favor, 
sir,"  said  Bingley,  gazing  up  at  the  ceiling,  "be- 
fore I  had  told  you  all,  but  I  couldn't  help  it, 
some  way,  and  I  knew  you  wouldn't  touch  my 
hand  after  you'd  heard.  Well,  I  was  one  of 


STRAIGHTENING    OUT    AFFAIRS. 

a  gang  who  went  to  Joe  Pepper's  room  last 
week  for  the  purpose  of  lamming  him." 

"You  went  to  Joe  Pepper's  room  for  the 
purpose  of  lamming  him?"  repeated  old  Mr. 
King,  darting  out  of  his  chair. 

"  Yes,  sir "  -  Bingley  still  kept  his  gaze 
glued  to  the  ceiling  —  "but  we  didn't  do  it, 
though  ;  Joe  lammed  us." 

«  Oh !  " 

"  So  the  rest  of  the  gang  are  going  for  him 
to-night ;  I'm  not  able  to,"  said  Bingley,  trying 
to  appear  careless. 

"Joel  to  be  in  such  business  —  how  could 
he ! "  fumed  old  Mr.  King.  "  A  gentleman  — 
and  I  thought  so  much  of  his  turning  out  well. 
It  will  kill  his  mother  —  oh,  how  could  he?" 
turning  fiercely  on  Bingley. 

"  See  here,  now,"  cried  that  individual,  tear- 
ing his  gaze  from  the  ceiling,  to  send  a  sharp 
glance  at  the  white-haired  old  gentleman,  "  Joe 
is  all  right ;  straight  as  a  brick.  You  can  bet 
your  money  on  that,  sir." 

"  Oh  —  oh ! "  cried  Mr.  King,  more  and  more 
horrified,  "  is  this  what  you  all  come  to  college 
for  ?  I  should  consider,  sir,"  very  sternly,  "  it 


420  STRAIGHTENING    OUT    AFFAIRS. 

a  place  to  keep  up  the  dignity  of  one's  family 
in,  and  that  of  such  a  venerable  institution," 
waving  both  shapely  hands  to  include  the 
entire  pile  of  buildings  by  which  they  were 
surrounded. 

Bingley  gave  vent  to  an  uncontrollable 
laugh.  "  Beg  pardon,  sir,  but  the  dignity  isn't 
worth  a  rush.  We  are  in  the  old  hole,  and  all 
we  look  out  for  is  to  have  a  good  time,  and 
scrape  through." 

"  Old  hole — -and  scrape  through  !  Oh,  dear 
—  oh,  dear !  "  groaned  old  Mr.  King. 

"  That's  what  our  set  do,"  said  Bingley,  to 
give  him  time  to  recover,  "  Joe  and  Davina  — 
ah,  I  mean  David  —  don't  train  in  our  crowd  ; 
the  other  one,  Whitney  "- 

"  Don't  tell  me  that  he  does,"  interrupted 
Percy's  grandfather  sharply.  "  It  wouldn't  be 
possible." 

"  No,  he  doesn't  affect  us,"  said  Bingley 
coolly,  "  it's  all  he  can  do  to  take  care  of  those 
eyeglasses  of  his ;  and  he'd  muss  his  clothes. 
Whitney  is  something  of  a  softy,  sir." 

Old  Mr.  King  drew  a  long  breath  of  re- 
lief. But  he  looked  so  troubled,  that  Bingley 


STRAIGHTENING    OUT    AFFAIRS.  421 

for   the    life   of    him   couldn't    keep    up    his 
assumed  carelessness. 

"  Sit  down  again,  do,  sir,"  he  begged  invol- 
untarily, "  and  I  will  tell  you  all  about  it,"  and 
Mr.  King,  resuming  his  chair,  presently  had  a 
graphic  account  of  Joel's  course  in  college, 
with  a  description  of  the  trouble  in  his  room, 
till  the  whole  thing  was  laid  bare. 

"  How  I  wish  I  had  been  here  to  see  my 
boy,"  exclaimed  the  old  gentleman,  with  spark- 
ling eyes ;  "  I  might  have  helped  him  a  bit." 
He  stretched  out  a  handsome  fist  and  looked  at  it 
as  admiringly  as  any  college  athlete  could  view 
his  own.  "  Well,"  dropping  his  arm,  "  I  am 
interrupting  you,  Mr."  -—  groping  for  the  name. 

"Bingley,  sir." 

"  Ah,  yes ;  Bingley.  Well,  Mr.  Bingley, 
pray  go  on.  Did  you  not  say  that  another 
attempt  was  to  be  made  on  my  grandson  ?  " 

Bingley  nodded.  "  To-night  after  he  comes 
from  the  Association  rooms,"  he  added. 

"  We  shall  see  —  we  shall  see,"  exclaimed 
the  old  gentleman  drily,  in  a  manner  that  de- 
lighted Bingley  and  made  him  tingle  all  over 
to  "  be  in  at  the  death  "  himself. 


422  STRAIGHTENING    OUT    AFFAIRS. 

"  Dobbs  has  planned  it  to  "  — 

"  Dobbs  ? "  interrupted  the  old  gentleman 
sharply,  "  what  family  ?  Not  the  Ingoldsby 
Dobbs,  I  trust  "  - 

"  This  chap's  name  is  Ingoldsby  Dobbs," 
said  Bingley ;  "  he's  a  high-flyer,  I  tell  you ! 
Lives  up  to  his  name,  I  suppose  he  thinks." 

"  Ob,  I'm  so  sorry,"  mourned  Mr.  King ;  "  I 
have  known  his  father  ever  since  we  were  boys  ; 
he's  capital  stock.  Well,  go  on,  Mr.  Bingley, 
and  let  me  know  what  this  young  rascal  is  up 
to,"  he  added,  with  extreme  irritation. 

"He  is  going  to  have  his  men  close  in  on 
Joe  in  the  middle  of  the  park.  Pepper  often 
comes  that  way  to  'Old  Brick'  —  short,  you 
know,  for  '  Old  Brick  Dormitory '  —  with  a 
poor  miserable  cuss  —  excuse  me,  sir  —  he's 
trying  to  get  up  on  to  sober  legs.  There  are 
twenty  fellows  pledged  to  do  the  job,  I've 
found  out." 

Bingley  didn't  think  it  worth  while  to  men- 
tion how  the  plan  was  discovered,  nor  that 
heavy  vengeance  was  vowed  upon  his  head  if 
he  divulged  it. 

"  I  gave  it  away  to   Whitney.     I  couldn't 


STKAIGHTENING    OUT    AFFAIES.  423 

get  at  Davi  —  er,  Dave,  to  see  if  it  wasn't  pos- 
sible to  keep  Joe  away  from  that  meeting." 

"  It  would  come  some  time  —  it  better  be 
to-night,"  said  the  old  gentleman  briefly. 
«  Well,  is  that  all  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir  ;  only  that  they  are  to  toss  a  cloak 
over  Joe's  head,  and  carry  him  off  for  a  little 
initiation  fun." 

"  Ah !  "  Old  Mr.  King  sat  quite  straight. 
"  Thank  you,  Mr.  Bingley,"  he  said,  getting  out 
of  his  chair.  He  didn't  offer  to  shake  hands, 
and  Bingley,  though  pretending  not  to  notice 
any  omission  of  that  sort,  felt  considerably 
crest-fallen  about  it. 

The  moment  the  door  was  shut  and  he  heard 
Mr.  King  go  down  the  stairs,  Robert  Bingley 
ran  his  fingers  through  his  hair,  giving  a 
savage  pull  at  the  innocent  locks. 

"  Curse  my  luck ! "  he  growled,  taking  out 
the  angry  fingers  to  shake  them  at  his  legs, 
"  tied  here  by  these  two  beggars,  and  he  thinks 
that  I'm  sneaking  out  of  standing  up  for  Joe !  " 

Old  Mr.  King  fumed  to  himself  all  the  way 
down  the  stairs,  becoming  more  angry  with 
each  step.  When  he  reached  the  lower  hall 


424  STRAIGHTENING    OUT    AFFAIRS. 

he  turned  and  passed  through  the  building  in- 
stead of  going  out,  and  meeting  a  young  col- 
legian on  a  run,  asked,  "  Have  the  goodness  to 
tell  me,  sir,  does  Mr.  Ingoldsby  Dobbs  room  in 
this  building?" 

"  No.  23-4-5  in  the  extension,"  said  the 
undergraduate,  not  slackening  speed,  and  point- 
ing the  direction.  So  the  old  gentleman  climbed 
the  staircase  to  the  wing,  and  presently  rapped 
on  the  door  marked  23. 

Uproarious  shouts  of  laughter  greeted  him 
as  he  opened  the  door  in  response  to  a  loud 
"  Come  in  !  "  The  noise  stopped  as  suddenly 
as  it  was  possible  for  the  inmates  of  the  room 
to  check  it  when  they  saw  the  visitor,  but  not 
before  "  We'll  season  Pepper  well  and  make  the 
deacon  howl !  "  came  distinctly  to  his  ears. 

"  Good  afternoon,  young  gentlemen,"  said 
old  Mr.  King,  bowing  his  white  head ;  and 
holding  his  hat  in  his  hand,  he  advanced  to  the 
table,  around  which  sat  six  or  eight  of  them. 
"  I  beg  of  you  not  to  go,"  as  some  of  them 
made  a  sudden  movement  to  leave  ;  "  I  should 
like  to  see  you  all,  though  I  called  especially 
upon  Mr.  Ingoldsby  Dobbs." 


STRAIGHTENING    OUT    AFFAIRS.  425 

A  tall,  wiry  youth  with  sallow  face  and 
high-bred  nose,  disentangled  himself  from  the 
group  and  came  forward.  "  I  don't  remember 
where  I  have  met  you,  sir,"  he  said,  yet  extend- 
ing his  hand,  with  his  best  manner  on. 

"  Aristocratic  old  party,"  whispered  one  man 
to  his  neighbor,  "  Dobbsey  needn't  be  afraid  to 
claim  him." 

"  I  am  very  thankful  to  say  I  never  have 
met  you  before,  young  man,"  observed  Mr. 
King  coolly,  not  seeing  the  slender  hand  wait- 
ing for  his,  "  your  father  honors  me  with  his 
friendship.  This  may  tell  you  who  I  am,"  and 
he  threw  a  card  upon  the  table. 

Young  Dobbs'  sallow  face  turned  a  shade 
paler  as  he  picked  up  the  card  and  read  it. 

"  Glad  to  see  you  —  sit  down,  won't  you  ?  " 
he  mumbled,  dragging  up  a  comfortable  chair. 
"  Any  friend  of  father's  is  welcome  here,"  he 
went  on  awkwardly,  while  the  rest  of  the  men 
stared  at  him,  one  of  them,  exclaiming  under 
his  breath,  "  First  time  Dobbs'  cheek  deserted 
him,  I'll  wager." 

The  old  gentleman  looked  first  into  In- 
goldsby  Dobbs'  thin  face,  then  surveyed  them 


426  STRAIGHTENING    OUT    AFFAIRS. 

all  quite  leisurely.  "  I  understand  you  paid 
my  grandson,  Joel  Pepper,  a  call  a  short  time 
since,  when  instead  of  abusing  him,  some  of  yoli 
got  your  deserts." 

The  men  started,  and  angry  exclamations 
went  around  the  room :  "  He's  turned  coward, 
the  mean  sneak !  We'll  pay  him  up ! "  and 
remarks  of  a  like  nature  being  quite  audible. 

Old  Mr.  King  turned  on  them.  "  Silence  ! " 
he  commanded.  "  My  grandson  Joel  doesn't 
know  I  am  here.  I  heard  the  story  since  my 
arrival.  If  any  one  says  one  word  against 
him,  I'll  cane  him  from  the  top  of  the  stairs  to 
the  bottom,"  and  he  looked  as  if  he  could  do  it. 

"'Twas  Bingley,  then,"  said  Dobbs  sullenly. 

The  old  gentleman  completely  ignored  him, 
addressing  his  words  to  the  crowd.  "There 
are  four  men  in  this  class  who  are  going  to  be 
protected  from  your  insults.  Those  are  my 
three  grandsons  and  Mr.  Robert  Bingley  ;  and 
this  is  to  be  done  without  appealing  to  the  col- 
lege authorities  either.  That  puts  a  stop  to 
your  fine  plan,  Mr.  Dobbs,"  at  last  looking  at 
him,  "  and  any  other  idea  of  the  same  sort  your 
fertile  brain  may  chance  to  think  up.  The 


STRAIGHTENING    OUT    AFFAIRS.  427 


first  intimation  of  any  hostility,  and  your  father 
and  the  fathers  of  these  men  here  with  you," 
waving  his  hand  at  them  all,  "  and  of  the 
others  in  this  interesting  plan,  will  be  informed, 
and  you  will  be  dealt  with  exactly  like  any 
other  disturber  of  the  peace  —  villains  in  col- 
lege or  out  of  it  ought  to  be  served  to  the 
same  punishment,  in  my  opinion.  Now  have 
any  of  you  remarks  to  make  ?  " 

It  was  so  like  Joel's  invitation  to  "  Come  on 
and  have  it  out  now,"  that  not  a  single  man  of 
them  stirred. 

"  Then  I  will  have  the  pleasure  of  bidding 
you  good-by,"  said  Mr.  King,  and  the  next 
moment  he  was  outside  of  No.  23,  while  per- 
fect silence  reigned  within. 

Polly  came  slowly  down  Mrs.  Higby's  front 
stairs  and  looked  at  Phronsie  standing  at  the 
further  end  of  the  entry. 

"  What's  the  matter,  Phronsie  ?  "  at  last  she 
asked. 

For  the  first  time  in  her  life  Phronsie  seemed 
unable  to  answer  Polly,  and  she  stood  quite 
still,  her  gaze  fastened  on  the  big-flowered 


STRAIGHTENING    OUT    AFFAIRS. 

muslin  curtain  that  swung  back  and  forth  in 
the  breeze  that  came  through  the  open  window. 

"  Now,  Phronsie,"  said  Polly  very  decidedly, 
and  going  up  to  her,  "  you  must  tell  me  what 
the  matter  is." 

"I  can't,"  said  Phronsie,  in  a  low  tone, 
"  don't  ask  me,  Polly." 

"Can't  tell  me  everything?"  cried  Polly. 
"  Dear  me,  what  nonsense,  Phronsie.  Come 
now,  begin,  there's  a  dear." 

"  But  I  am  not  to  tell,"  persisted  Phronsie, 
shaking  her  head.  Then  she  drew  a  long 
breath,  and  looked  as  if  she  were  going  to  cry. 

"  Who  has  been  telling  you  things  ?  "  cried 
Polly,  her  brown  eyes  flashing,  "  that  you  are 
not  to  tell?  It  is  Mrs.  Cabot.  I  know  it 
is,  for  there  is  no  one  else  here  who  would 
do  it." 

"Don't  ask  me,"  pleaded  Phronsie  in  great 
distress,  and  clutching  Polly's  gown.  "Oh, 
don't  say  anything  more  about  it,  Polly." 

"  Indeed  I  shall,"  declared  Polly.  "  No  one 
has  a  right  to  command  you  in  this  way,  and  I 
shall  just  speak  to  Mrs.  Cabot  about  it." 

"  Oh,  no,  no,"  protested  Phronsie,  huddling 


STRAIGHTENING    OUT    AFFAIRS.  429 

up  closer  to  Polly  in  dismay;  "please,  Polly, 
don't  say  anything  to  her  about  it,  please." 

"Mamsie  wouldn't  ever  allow  you  to  be  an- 
noyed about  anything,"  said  Polly,  with  increas- 
ing irritation,  "  and  if  Mrs.  Cabot  has  said 
anything  to  you,  Phronsie,  to  make  you  feel 
badly,  why,  I  must  know  it.  Don't  you  see, 
child,  that  I  really  ought  to  be  told  ?  " 

Phronsie  folded  her  hands  tightly  together, 
trying  to  keep  them  quiet,  and  her  cheeks 
turned  so  very  white  that  Polly  hastened  to 
put  her  well  arm  around  her,  saying  quickly, 
"There,  there,  child,  you  needn't  tell  me  now 
if  you  don't  want  to.  Wait  a  bit." 

"I  had  rather  tell  it  now,"  said  Phronsie, 
"but  oh,  I  do  wish  that  Grandpapa  was  here," 
she  added  sadly. 

"  Whatever  can  have  been  said  to  you, 
Phronsie  ?  "  exclaimed  Polly  in  dismay.  "  You 
frighten  me,  child.  Do  tell  me  at  once  what 
it  was." 

"  Jasper  isn't  going  to  be  at  Mr.  Marlowe's 
any  more,"  said  Phronsie,  with  distinctness. 

"  Jasper  isn't  going  to  be  at  Mr.  Marlowe's 
any  more."  repeated  Polly  wildly,  and  holding 


430  STRAIGHTENING    OUT    AFFAIRS. 

Phronsie  so  closely  that  she  winced.  u  Oh, 
what  do  you  mean !  who  has  told  you  such 
nonsense?" 

"  Mrs.  Cabot,"  said  Phronsie  ;  "  she  told  me 
this  morning — and  I  was  not  to  tell  you, 
Polly.  But  I  did  not  promise  not  to.  Indeed 
I  didn't." 

"  What  perfect  nonsense  !"  exclaimed  Polly, 
recovering  herself,  and  trying  to  laugh,  "  well, 
Phronsie,  child,  didn't  you  know  better  than  to 
believe  any  story  that  Mrs.  Cabot  might  tell? 
How  in  the  world  could  she  know  of  Jasper's 
affairs,  pray  tell  ?  "  and  she  laughed  again,  this 
time  quite  gaily. 

"  Ah,  but,"  said  Phronsie,  shaking  her  head, 
"  she  had  a  letter  from  Mr.  Cabot ;  it  came  in 
this  morning's  mail ;  she  opened  it  and  said  out 
loud  this  dreadful  thing  about  Jasper,  and  then 
she  saw  me,  and  she  said  I  was  not  to  tell  you." 

Polly  dropped  Phronsie's  arm  and  rushed 
down  the  hall. 

"  Where  are  you  going  ?  "  cried  Phronsie, 
hurrying  after  —  "  Oh,  Polly!  " 

"  I  am  going  to  make  Mrs.  Cabot  tell  me 
everything  she  knows,"  said  Polly  hoarsely, 


STRAIGHTENING    OUT    AFFAIRS.  431 

and  not  looking  back ;  "  she  shall  let  me  have 
every  syllable.  It  can't  be  true  !  "  She  threw 
wide  the  door  of  Mrs.  lligby's  "  keeping-room  " 
where  that  lady  was  engaged  in  putting  a 
patch  on  the  chintz-covered  sofa,  and  talking 
.  gossip  with  a  neighbor  at  the  same  time. 

"  I  thought  as  this  was  a-going  so  fast,  Mr. 
Higby  sets  it  out  so,  and  we  were  all  so  com- 
fortable to-day,  I'd  get  at  it  kinder  early,"  said 
Mrs.  Higby  apologetically  ;  "  anything  I  can  do, 
Miss  Polly  ?  "  she  asked,  flying  away  from  her 
patch,  and  dropping  her  scissors  on  the  floor. 

"No,"  said  Polly,  turning  back  hastily. 
"Never  mind,  Mrs.  Higby." 

"  Now  'twas  something  you  wanted  me  for," 
cried  Mrs.  Higby,  ambling  toward  the  door,  "  1 
ain't  a  mite  busy,  Miss  Polly ;  that  old  patch  can 
wait.  La !  I  can  tell  Mr.  Higby  to  set  on  the 
other  end  till  I  get  time  to  attend  to  it.  What 
was  it,  Miss  Polly  ?  " 

Polly  turned  back,  Mrs.  Higby's  tone  was  so 
full  of  entreaty.  "  Oh,  nothing,  only  if  it  isn't 
too  much  trouble,  would  you  ask  Mrs.  Cabot  to 
come  down  stairs  a  moment,  I  want  to  see  her." 

"  Oh,  cert'in,"  cried  Mrs.  Higby,  ambling  off 


432 


STRAIGHTENING    OUT    AFFAIRS. 


toward  the  stairs.  And  presently  Mrs.  Cabot 
in  a  pink  morning  gown  came  down  the  hall 
toward  Polly,  and  put  both  arms  around  her. 


"PHKONSIK,    GET   A    GLASS   OF  WATKR  ;    BE   QUICK,  CHILD!" 

"  What  is  it,  dear  ?  "  she  asked  caressingly. 
"  Come  out  of  doors,"  begged  Poll}',  "  I  can't 
breathe  here.     Come,  Mrs.  Cabot." 


STRAIGHTENING    OUT    AFFAIRS.  438 

And  Mrs.  Cabot,  her  arms  still  around  Polly, 
was  drawn  out  to  the  old  porch,  Phronsie  fol- 
lowing. Then  Polly  shook  herself  free. 

"  Is  it  true  ?"  she  began  —  "I  made  Phronsie 
tell  me  —  that  Jasper,"  she  caught  her  breath, 
but  went  on  again  hurriedly,  "has  left  Mr. 
Marlowe  ?  " 

"  Oh,  dear  me ! "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Cabot  in 
consternation,  "  what  shall  I  do  ?  Yes ;  but  I 
wasn't  to  tell  you ;  Mr.  King  is  coming  back. 
Do  wait,  Polly,  and  ask  him  about  it." 

"  I  shall  not  wait,"  declared  Polly  passion- 
ately, facing  her.  "  Tell  me  all  you  know,  Mrs. 
Cabot ;  every  single  word." 

"  I  don't  know  a  thing  about  it,"  cried  Mrs. 
Cabot  in  a  frightened  way,  "  only  Mr.  Cabot 
writes  that  Mr.  King  has  made  Jasper  leave 
Mr.  Marlowe.  That's  all  I  know  about  it, 
Polly,"  she  added  desperately,  "  and  I  wish 
Mr.  Cabot  had  been  asleep  before  he  wrote  it. 
Phronsie,  oh !  get  a  glass  of  water ;  be  quick, 
child ! "  as  Polly  sank  down  on  the  old  stone 
floor  of  the  porch. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

POLLY  TRIES  TO  HELP  JASPER. 

4  4  T  THINK  it  was  a  mean  shame,"  began 

JL     Dick  wrathfully. 

"  Dick  —  Dick ! "  exclaimed  his  mother  gently. 

Mr.  Whitney  tapped  his  knee  with  a  letter 
he  had  just  placed  within  its  envelope,  then 
threw  it  on  the  table.  "  It's  the  best  job  I  ever 
did,"  he  cried  jubilantly,  "  to  get  Jasper  out  of 
that  business." 

Dick  sent  his  two  hands  deep  within  their 
pockets.  "  Oh  !  how  can  you  say  so?  "  he  cried. 

"  And  how  can  you  question  what  your  father 
does  ?  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Whitney.  "  Why,  that 
isn't  like  you,  Dick !  "  with  a  face  full  of  reproach. 

"  Oh !   let  the   boy  say  what  he   wants  to, 
Marian,"  broke  in  her  husband  easily.     "  So, 
Dicky,  my  lad,  you  don't  think  I  did  just  the 
right  thing  for  Jasper  —  eh  ?  " 
434 


POLLY  TRIES  TO  HELP  JASPER.     435 

He  leaned  back  in  his  chair,  and  surveyed  his 
young  son  with  a  twinkle  in  his  eye. 

"No,  I  don't,"  declared  Dick,  beginning  to 
rage  up  and  down  the  room  on  young  indig- 
nant feet.  "  I  say  it's  mean  to  meddle  with 
a  fellow's  business.  I  wouldn't  stand  it !  " 
he  added  stoutly. 

Mr.  Whitney  laughed  long  and  loud,  despite 
his  wife's  shocked,  "  Dicky,  don't,  dear !  " 

"  Well,  if  I  didn't  know  that  in  a  year's  time 
Jasper  will  come  to  me  and  say, '  I  thank  you! ' 
I  should  never  have  gone  through  with  the  job 
in  the  world,"  said  his  father,  when  he  came  out 
of  his  amusement.  "  It  isn't  the  pleasantest 
piece  of  work  a  man  could  select,  '  to  meddle,' 
as  you  call  it,  with  another's  affairs." 

"  Jasper  never  will  thank  you  in  the  world  — 
never  !  "  exclaimed  Dick,  cramming  his  irritated 
hands  deeper  in  their  pockets,  and  turning  on 
his  father. 

"  You  see,"  said  his  father,  nodding  easily. 

"And  you  see,  papa,"  cried  Dick,  turning 
hastily  in  front  of  him,  looking  so  exactly  like 
his  father  that  Mrs.  Whitney  forgot  to  chide, 
in  admiring  them  both. 


436  POLLY    TRIES    TO    HELP    JASPER. 

"  And  I  think  it's  too  bad,"  went  on  Dick. 
"  Everybody  pitches  into  Jasper,  and  wants  him 
to  do  things  ;  and  Grandpapa  is  always  picking 
at  him.  I'd  —  I'd  fight  —  sometimes,"  he  added. 

"  Softly  —  softly  there,  my  boy,"  said  Mr. 
Whitney ;  "  you'll  have  plenty  of  practice  for 
all  your  fighting  powers  by  and  by  ;  a  fourteen- 
year-old  chap  doesn't  know  everything.'1 

"  Well,  I  know  one  thing,"  declared  Dick, 
more  positively,  "  Grandpapa  has  always  been 
meddling  with  Jasper,  and  you  know  it,  papa." 

"  That's  because  he  expects  great  things  from 
Jasper,  and  that  he  will  hold  up  the  King  name  ; 
we  all  do,"  replied  his  father. 

Dick  turned  on  an  impatient  heel.  "  And  so 
he  would  have  done,  if  you'd  let  him  be  a  pub- 
lisher," he  declared. 

His  father  laughed  again,  and  leaned  out  of 
his  chair  to  pinch  his  son's  ear,  but  Dick,  resent- 
ing this  indignity,  retreated  to  a  safe  position, 
declaring,  "  And  I'm  going  to  be  one  when  I'm 
through  college  —  so  ! " 

"Mr.  King's  a-coming  down  the  road,  and 
Mr.  Jasper ! "  screamed  Mrs.  Higby,  coming  out 


POLLY    TRIES    TO    HELP    JASPER.  439 

suddenly  to  the  porch.  "  I  see  'em  from  the 
keepin'-room  window.  My  !  what's  the  matter 
with  Miss  Polly  ?  " 

"  Nothing,"  said  Polly,  opening  her  eyes ; 
"  that  is,  not  much,"  and  sitting  up  straight. 
"  Are  Grandpapa  and  Jasper  really  coming  ?  " 
she  asked. 

"Dear  me,  Polly,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Cabot, 
before  Mrs.  Higby  could  answer,  and  putting 
shaking  hands  on  Polly's  shoulders,  "  I  never 
was  so  frightened  in  my  life  !  I  thought  your 
arm  was  worse  —  and  you  so  near  well!  O, 
dear!  are  you  sure  you  are  right?"  peering 
around  into  her  face.  "  Plere  comes  Phronsie 
with  the  water  —  that's  good  !  " 

Polly  took  the  glass  and  smiled  up  reassur- 
ingly into  Phronsie's  troubled  face.  "  Oh !  how 
good  that  is,  Phronsie,"  she  cried.  "  There  now, 
I'm  all  right.  Don't  let  Grandpapa  or  Jasper 
know,"  and  she  sprang  to  her  feet,  while  Mrs. 
Higby  hurried  off  to  see  if  her  preparations  for 
dinner  were  all  right,  now  that  Mr.  King  had 
come  back  a  day  sooner  than  he  wrote  he 
intended. 

"  Phronsie,  you  go  and  meet  them  ;  do,  dear," 


440  POLLY    TRIES    TO    HELP   JASPER. 

begged  Polly ;  and  as  Phronsie  ran  off  obedi- 
ently, Polly  walked  up  and  down  the  porch 
with  hasty  steps,  holding  her  hands  as  tightly 
locked  together  as  the  injured  arm  would  allow. 
"  Oh !  if  I  only  had  time  to  think  —  but  I  ought 
to  try,  even  if  I  don't  say  just  exactly  the  right 
words,  for  Mr.  Marlowe  may  not  be  able  to  take 
him  back  if  I  wait,"  and  then  Grandpapa  came 
hurrying  out  with,  "  Where's  Polly  ?  "  and  she 
was  kissed  and  her  cheeks  patted  —  he  not 
seeming  to  notice  anything  amiss  in  her  — 
he  was  so  glad  to  get  back;  and  through  it 
all,  Polly  saw  only  Jasper's  face,  and,  although 
everything  seemed  to  turn  around  before  her, 
she  made  up  her  mind  that  she  would  tell 
Grandpapa  just  what  she  thought,  and  beg 
him  to  change  his  mind,  the  very  first  in- 
stant she  could. 

And  so,  before  the  first  greetings  of  the  home- 
coming were  fairly  over,  Polly,  afraid  her  cour- 
age would  give  out  if  she  waited  a  moment 
longer,  put  her  hand  on  Mr.  King's  arm. 
"What  is  it,  dear?"  asked  the  old  gentle- 
man, busy  with  Phronsie,  who  hung  around 
his  neck,  while  she  tried  to  tell  him  every- 


POLLY  TRIES  TO  HELP  JASPER.     441 

thing  that  had  happened  during  his  absence; 
and  he  peered  over  her  shoulder  into  Polly's 
face. 

"  Grandpapa,"  cried  Polly  in  a  tremor, "  could 
you  let  me  talk  to  you  a  little  just  now?  Please, 
Grandpapa." 

"  Well,  yes,  dear,  after  Phronsie  has  " 

"  Oh !  Phronsie  will  wait,"  cried  Polly,  guilty 
of  interrupting ;  "  I  know  she  will." 

For  the  first  time  in  her  life,  Phronsie  said 
rebelliously,  "  Oh  !  I  don't  want  to  wait,  Polly. 
Dear  Grandpapa  has  just  got  home,  and  I  must 
tell  him  things." 

"  So  you  shall,  Phronsie,"  declared  old  Mr. 
King,  drawing  her  off  beyond  Polly's  reach. 
"  There,  now  you  and  I  will  get  into  this  quiet 
corner,"  and  he  sat  down  and  drew  Phronsie  to 
his  knee.  "  Now,  Pet,  so  you  are  glad  to  get 
your  old  Grandpapa  home,  eh  ? ':  • 

Polly,  in  an  agony  at  being  misunderstood, 
followed,  and  without  stopping  to  think,  she 
threw  her  arms  around  Phronsie  and  cried, 
"  O,  Phronsie  !  do  trust  me,  dear,  and  let  Grand- 
papa go.  I  must  see  him  now  !  " 

Mr.   King   gave    Polly's   burning   cheeks  a 


442     POLLY  TRIES  TO  HELP  JASPER. 

keen  glance,  then  he  set  Phronsie  on  the 
floor  abruptly.  "  Phronsie,  see,  dear,  Polly 
really  needs  me.  Come,  child,"  and  he  gath- 
ered up  Polly's  hand  into  his  own,  and  marched 
out  of  the  room  with  her. 

"  Suppose  we  go  in  here,"  said  the  old  gen- 
tleman, "and  have  our  talk,"  unceremoniously 
opening  the  door  of  Mrs.  Higby's  best  room 
as  he  spoke;  "nobody  is  likely  to  disturb  us 
here." 

Polly,  not  caring  where  she  went,  but  with 
the  words  she  must  speak  weighing  heavily  on 
her  mind,  followed  him  unsteadily  into  the  par- 
lor, and  while  he  threw  open  a  blind  or  two  to 
light  up  the  gloom  that  usually  hung  over  Mrs. 
Higby's  best  room,  she  busied  herself  trying  to 
think  how  she  should  begin. 

"  There,  now,  my  dear,"  said  Mr.  King,  com- 
ing up  to  her,  and  drawing  her  off  to  a  big  hair- 
cloth sofa,  standing  stiffly  against  the  wall,  "  we 
will  sit  down  here,  and  then  we  can  go  over  it 
comfortably  together  and  settle  what  is  on  your 
mind,"  he  added,  feeling  immensely  gratified  at 
the  impending  confidence. 

"Grandpapa,"  cried  Polly  in  desperation,  and 


POLLY  TRIES  TO  HELP  JASPER.     443 

springing  from  the  sofa,  where  he  had  placed 
her  by  his  side,  to  stand  in  front  of  him,  "  I 
don't  know  where  to  begin.  Oh !  do  help  me." 
She  clasped  her  hands,  and  stood  the  picture  of 
distress,  unable  to  say  another,  word. 

"  Why,  how  can  I  help  you  to  tell  me,  child," 
cried  old  Mr.  King  in  astonishment,  "  when  I 
don't  know  in  the  least  what  it  is  you  want  to 
say?" 

"  Oh !  I  know  it,"  cried  Polly,  twisting  her 
hands,  unable  to  hold  them  quite  still.  "  O,  dear  ! 
what  shall  I  do  ?  Grandpapa,  it's  just "  — 

"  Well,  what,  my  dear  ?  "  asked  the  old  gen- 
tleman, and  taking  one  of  her  hands  encourag- 
ingly. "  Are  you  afraid  of  me  ?  Why,  Polly !  " 

Polly  started  at  his  tone  of  reproach,  and 
threw  her  well  arm  around  his  neck,  exactly 
as  Phronsie  would  have  done,  which  so  pleased 
the  old  gentleman  that  it  was  easier  for  her  to 
begin  again  to  tell  him  what  was  on  her  mind. 
But  when  she  had  gotten  as  far  as  "  It's  just 
this" —  she  stopped  again. 

"  Well,  now,  Polly,"  said  Mr.  King,  sitting 
straight  on  the  sofa,  with  displeasure,  "  I  must 
say,  I  am  surprised  at  you.  I  should  never 


444     POLLY  TRIES  TO  HELP  JASPER. 

think  this  was  you,  Polly,  never  in  all  the 
world,"  which  so  unnerved  her,  that  she 
plunged  at  once  into  what  she  had  set  herself 
to  do,  saying  the  most  dreadful  thing  that  was 
possible. 

"  O,  Grandpapa !  "  she  cried,  "  do  you  think 
it  can  be  right  to  take  Jasper  away  from  his 
work?" 

"Hoity-toity!  Well,  I  must  say,  Polly," 
exclaimed  the  old  gentleman  in  the  greatest 
displeasure,  and  rising  abruptly  from  the  sofa, 
brushing  her  aside  as  he  did  so,  "  that  I  never 
have  been  so  surprised  in  my  life,  as  to  have 
you  come  to  teach  me  my  duty.  Right?  Of 
course  it  is  —  it  must  be,  if  I  wish  it.  I  have 
always  looked  out  for  Jasper's  good,"  with  that 
he  walked  up  and  down  the  parlor,  fuming  at 
every  step,  and  looking  so  very  dreadful,  that 
Polly,  rooted  to  the  spot,  had  only  to  stand 
still,  and  watch  him  in  despair. 

"  If  you  could  have  seen  Jasper,  the  way  he 
was  when  I  found  him,"  said  Mr.  King,  tired  at 
last  of  vituperating,  and  coming  up  to  Polly 
sternly,  "  you  would  be  glad  to  have  me  get 
him  out  of  the  wretched  business.  It  smelt  so 


POLLY  TRIES  TO  HELP  JASPER.     445 

of  trade,  and  everybody  was  grossly  familiar  ; 
while  that  Mr.  Marlowe  —  I  have  no  words  for 
him,  Polly.  He  insulted  me." 

"  Oh  !  —  oh ! "  cried  Polly,  with  clasped  hands 
and  flaming  cheeks.  "  How  could  he,  Grand- 
papa? Jasper  has  always  said  he  was  such  a 
gentleman." 

"  Jasper's  ideas  of  what  a  gentleman  should 
be,  and  mine,  are  very  different,"  exploded  the 
old  gentleman,  beginning  to  walk  up  and  down 
the  parlor  again.  "  I  tell  you,  Polly,  that  my 
boy  is  sadly  changed  since  he  went  into  that 
contemptible  trade." 

"  But  Jasper  loves  his  work,"  mourned  Polly, 
her  color  dying  down. 

"Loves  his  work?  Well,  he  shouldn't,"  cried 
Mr.  King  in  extreme  irritation.  "  It's  no  sort 
of  a  work  for  him  to  love,  brought  up  as  he  has 
been.  A  profession  is  the  only  thing  for  him. 
Now  he  studies  law  " 

"  O,  Grandpapa !  "  cried  Polly,  quite  white 
now,  and  she  precipitated  herself  in  front  of 
the  old  gentleman's  angry  feet,  "  Jasper  just 
hates  the  law.  I  know,  for  he  has  often  said 
so ;  and  if  you  do  fasten  him  down  all  his  life 


446     POLLY  TRIES  TO  HELP  JASPER. 

to  what  he  don't  like,  and  make  him  be  a  law- 
yer, it  will  kill  him.  He'll  do  it,  Grandpapa" 
—  Polly  rushed  on,  regardless  of  the  lightning 
gleam  of  anger  in  the  sharp  eyes  above  her  ; 
and,  although  she  knew  that  after  this  she 
should  never  be  the  same  Polly  to  him  as  of 
old,  she  kept  on  steadily  —  "  because  you  want 
him  to ;  he'll  do  anything  to  please  you,  and 
make  you  happy,  Grandpapa,  and  he  won't  say 
anything,  but  it  will  kill  him  ;  it  surely  will, 
for  he  loves  his  work  with  Mr.  Marlowe  so." 
Then  Polly  stopped,  aghast  at  the  effect  of  her 
words. 

"  And  what  am  I  to  do  now,  pray,  to  please 
you  ?  "  asked  old  Mr.  King,  and  drawing  off  to 
look  at  her  quite  coldly. 

"  Oh !  nothing  to  please  me,"  cried  poor 
Polly ;  "  only  for  Jasper.  Do  let  him  go  back 
to  Mr.  Marlowe,  Grandpapa." 

"  He  shall  never  go  back  to  Mr.  Marlowe  with 
n>y  consent,"  declared  the  old  gentleman  stiffly, 
his  anger  rising  again,  "  and  you  have  displeased 
me  very  much,  Polly  Pepper,  by  all  this.  Now 
you  may  go  ;  and  remember,  not  another  word 
about  Jasper  and  his  work.  I  will  arrange 


POLLY    TRIES    TO    HELP    JASPER.  447 

everything    concerning   him  without   interfer- 
ence."     And  Polly,  not  knowing  how,  crept 


"  OH,  WHY  DID  I  SPEAK  ?  "    CRIED   POLLY  OVER   AND  OVER. 

out  of  Mrs.  Higby's  parlor,  and  shut  the  door. 
"  Polly  ! "  somebody  called,  as  she  hurried  on 


448     POLLY  TRIES  TO  HELP  JASPER. 

unsteady  feet  over  the  stairs  to  her  own  little 
room  that  she  had  begged  under  the  farmhouse 
eaves.  But  she  didn't  even  answer,  only  rushed 
on,  and  locked  the  door  behind  her.  Then  she 
threw  herself  on  her  knees  by  the  bed,  and  buried 
her  face  in  her  hands.  This  was  worse  than 
the  day  so  long  ago  when  she  sat  in  the  old 
rocking-chair  in  the  little  brown  house,  with 
eyes  bound  closely  to  shut  out  all  outside 
things ;  and  all  of  them  had  been  afraid  she 
was  going  to  be  blind.  For  now  she  felt  sure 
that  she  had  spoiled  whatever  chance  there 
might  have  been  for  Jasper.  "  Oh !  why  did 
I  speak  —  why  did  I  ?  "  she  cried,  over  and  over 
in  her  distress,  as  she  buried  her  face  deeper  yet 
in  Mrs.  Higby's  gay  patch  bedquilt. 

After  a  while  —  Polly  never  could  tell  how 
long  she  had  staid  there  —  somebody  rapped  at 
the  door.  It  was  Phronsie  ;  and  she  cried  in  a 
grieved  little  voice,  "  Polly,  are  youJiere?  I've 
been  under  the  apple-trees  —  and  just  every- 
where for  you.  Do  let  me  in." 

"  I  can't  now,  Pet,"  cried  Polly,  trying  not  to 
let  her  voice  sound  choked  with  tears ;  "  you  run 
away,  dear ;  Polly  will  let  you  in  by  and  by." 


POLLY  TRIES  TO  HELP  JASPER.     449 

"Are  you  sick,  Polly?"  cried  Phronsie 
anxiously,  and  kneeling  down  to  put  her 
mouth  to  the  keyhole. 

"  No,  not  a  bit,"  said  Polly  hastily,  and  try- 
ing to  speak  cheerfully. 

«  Really,  Polly  ?  " 

"Really  and  truly,  Phronsie ;  there,  run  away, 
dear,  if  you  love  me." 

Phronsie,  at  this,  unwillingly  crept  off,  and 
still  Polly  knelt  on,  with  the  wild  remorse  tug- 
ging at  her  heart  that  she  had  been  the  one  to 
injure  Jasper's  prospects  for  life. 

And  then  the  dinner-bell  rang,  and  Polly, 
who  was  never  known  to  be  late  at  a  meal, 
heard  Mrs.  Higby  come  out  into  the  hall  again, 
and  shake  the  big  bell  till  it  seemed  to  fill  the 
whole  farmhouse  with  its  noise. 

"  Oh  !  I  can't  go  down  —  I  can't !  "  moaned 
poor  Polly  to  herself,  quite  lost  to  everything 
but  th£  draadful  distress  at  the  mischief  she 
had  wrought.  And  then  Phronsie  came  again, 
this  time  imploring,  with  tears  —  for  Polly  felt 
quite  sure  that  she  could  hear  her  crying  —  that 
Polly  would  only  open  the  door,  "  and  let  me 
see  you  just  once,  Polly ! " 


450 


POLLY  TRIES  TO  HELP  JASPER. 


And  even  Mrs.  Cabot  came,  and  Polly  thought 
she  should  go  wild  to  have  her  stand  outside 


"ARE  YOU  SICK,  POLLY  ?  "  CRIED  PHRONSIE  ANXIOUSLY. 

there  and  beg  and  insist  that  Polly  should  come 
down  to  them  all. 

« I  don't  want  any  dinner,"  said  Polly  over 


POLLY    TRIES    TO    HELP    JASPER.  451 

and  over.  "  I  just  must  be  alone  a  little  while," 
and  at  last  she  spoke  quickly  to  Mrs.  Cabot's 
persistent  pleadings,  "  Have  the  goodness,  Mrs. 
Cabot,  not  to  call  me  again."  And  then  she  was 
sorry  the  minute  she  had  spoken  the  words,  and 
she  opened  her  door  a  little  crack  to  call  after 
Mrs.  Cabot,  as  she  sailed  downstairs  in  great 
displeasure,  "  Oh !  *do  forgive  me,  dear  Mrs. 
Cabot,  for  speaking  so.  I  am  very  sorry,  but 
I  cannot  come  down  just  yet." 

"  I  shall  send  you  up  your  dinner,  then,"  said 
Mrs.  Cabot,  only  half  appeased,  and  pausing  on 
the  stairs. 

"  No,  no  ! "  begged  Polly,  and  she  seemed  so 
distressed  at  the  mere  thought,  that  Mrs.  Cabot 
unwillingly  let  her  have  her  way  about  it. 

It  was  in  the  middle  of  the  afternoon,  and 
Polly,  exhausted  by  weeping,  had  fallen  .asleep 
just  where  she  was,  on  her  knees  by  the  bed, 
her  head  on  the  gay  bedquilt,  when  a  low  knock 
on  the  door  startled  her  and  made  her  rub  her 
eyes  and  listen. 

"  Polly,"  said   a  voice  —  it  was  Jasper's  — 
"  won't  you  undo  the  door  ?     I  want  to  speak 
to  you." 


452  POLLY    TRIES    TO    HELP   JASPEE. 

"  O,  Jasper ! "  cried  Polly,  springing  to  her 
feet,  and  running  over  to  the  door,  "  I  can't ; 
don't  ask  me  —  not  just  yet." 

"  I  won't  ask  you  again,"  said  Jasper,  "  if  you 
don't  wish  it,  Polly." 

His  voice  showed  his  disappointment,  and 
Polly,  full  of  dismay  at  the  trouble  she  had 
made  for  him,  couldn't  find  it  in  her  heart  to 
cause  him  this  new  worry. 

*'  You  won't  want  to  speak  to  me,  Jasper," 
she  cried,  unlocking  the  door  with  trembling 
fingers,  "  when  you  know  what  I  have  done." 

"  What,  Polly  ?  "  he  cried,  trying  not  to  show 
how  he  felt  at  sight  of  the  swollen  eyelids  and 
downcast  face.  Meanwhile  he  drew  her  out 
gently  into  the  hall.  "  There,  let  us  sit  down 
here,"  pausing  before  the  wide  window-seat; 
"  it's  quiet  here,  and  nobody  will  be  likely  to 
come  here."  He  waited  till  Polly  sat  down, 
then  made  a  place  for  himself  beside  her. 

"Jasper,"  cried  Polly,  lifting  her  brown  eyes, 
now  filling  with  tears  again,  "  you  can't  think 
what  I've  done.  I've  ruined  your  whole  life 
for  you ! " 

"How,  Polly?"     Jasper's  face  grew  pale  to 


POLLY  TRIES  TO  HELP  JASPER.     453 

his  lips.  "  Oh !  do  tell  me  at  once,"  yet  he 
seemed  to  be  afraid  of  what  she  was  about  to  say. 

"  O,  Jasper !  I  thought  perhaps  I  could  help 
you.  I  never  knew  till  this  morning,  just  before 
you  came,  that  you  had  lost  your  place.  Mrs. 
Cabot  had  a  letter  from  her  husband,  and  she 
told  me.  And  I  spoke  to  Grandpapa  and  begged 
him  to  let  you  go  back,  and,  O,  Jasper !  "  here 
Polly's  tears,  despite  all  her  efforts  to  keep  them 
back,  fell  in  a  shower,  "  you  can't  guess  how 
dreadfully  Grandpapa  feels,  and  he  says  —  oh  ! 
he  says  that  you  are  to  study  law,  and  never, 
never  go  back  to  Mr.  Marlowe." 

"  Is  that  all  ?  "  exclaimed  Jasper  in  such  a 
tone  of  relief  that  Polly  sprang  to  her  feet  and 
stared  at  him  through  dry  eyes, 

"  All?"  she  gasped.  "  O,  Jasper  !  I  thought 
you  loved  your  work." 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

MB.    KING    AND    POLLY. 

{ (  Pj  O  I  do  love  my  work,"  cried  Jasper  in  a 

,  O  glow>  "  but,  Polly,"  and  he  sprang  to 
his  feet  and  walked  away  so  that  she  couldn't 
see  his  face,  "  I  thought  that  you  were  going 
to  say  something  about  yourself." 

Then  he  turned  around  and  faced  her  again. 

"  O,  Jasper  ! "  exclaimed  Polly  reproachfully, 
"  what  could  I  possibly  have  to  say  about  my- 
self !  How  can  I  think  of  anything  when  you 
are  in  trouble  ?  " 

"  Forgive  me,  Polly,"  broke  in  Jasper  eagerly, 
and  he  took  her  hand,  "  and  don't  worry  about 
me ;  I  mean,  don't  think  that  what  you  said  to 
Grandpapa  made  any  difference." 

"  But  indeed  it  did,  Jasper,"  declared  Polly 
truthfully ;  "  oh  !  I  know  it  did,  and  I  have 
done  it  all." 

454 


ME.    KING    AND    POLLY.  455 

"  Polly  —  Polly  ! "  begged  Jasper  in  great 
distress,  "  don't,  dear !  " 

"  And  now  you  must  give  it  all  up  and  go 
into  the  law  —  oh  !  the  horrid,  hateful  law ; 
oh !  what  will  you  do,  Jasper  ? "  And  she 
gazed  up  into  his  face  pityingly. 

"  I  shall  have  to  go,"  said  Jasper,  drawing 
his  breath  hard,  and  looking  at  her  steadily. 
"  You  know  you  yourself  told  me  long  ago 
to  make  my  father  happy  any  way,  Polly." 
He  smiled  as  he  emphasized  the  last  word. 

"  Oh !  I  know,"  cried  Polly  in  despair,  "  but 
I  didn't  think  it  could  ever  be  anything  as  bad 
as  this,  Jasper." 

" '  Any  way '  means  pretty  hard  lines  some- 
times, Polly,"  said  Jasper.  "  Well,  there's  no 
help  for  it  now,  so  you  must  help  me  to  go 
through  with  it." 

"And  just  think,"  mourned  Polly,  looking 
as  if  the  shower  were  about  to  fall  again, "  how 
I've  made  it  worse  for  you  with  Grandpapa. 
O,  Jasper !  I  shall  never  be  any  help  to  you." 

"  Polly ! "  exclaimed  Jasper,  in  such  a  tone 
that  she  stopped  to  look  at  him  in  astonishment. 
"  There,  now,  I'll  tell  you  all  about  it,"  he 


45.6  MR.    KING    AND    POLLY. 

added  with  his  usual  manner,  and  sitting  down 
beside  her  again,  "and  then  you'll  see  that 
nothing  on  earth  made  any  difference  to  father. 
This  was  the  way  of  it,"  and  Jasper  proceeded 
to  lay  before  her1  every  detail  of  Mr.  King's 
visit  to  him,  and  all  the  circumstances  at  the 
store,  not  omitting  Mr.  Whitney's  part  in  the 
affair,  as  shown  by  the  letter  that  Jasper  had 
seen. 

"  Oh,  oh !  how  mean,"  interrupted  Polly  at 
this  point,  with  flashing  brown  eyes ;  "  how 
could  he?"  and  her  lips  curled  disdainfully. 

"  Oh !  Mason  thought  he  was  doing  me  the 
greatest  favor  in  the  world,  I  don't  doubt," 
answered  Jasper.  "  You  know,  Polly,  he  never 
could  bear  to  hear  of  the  publishing  business, 
and  he  was  so  disappointed  when  I  wouldn't 
go  into  the  law." 

"  I  know,"  said  Polly,  "  but  this  was  dreadful, 
to  meddle  —  after  you  had  once  decided ;  very, 
very  dreadful ! " 

"  I  think  so,"  said  Jasper,  with  a  laugh ;  feel- 
ing surprisingly  light-hearted,  it  was  so  beauti- 
ful to  be  talking  it  all  over  with  Polly, "  but  the 
trouble  is,  Mason  don't.  Well,  and  then  came 


MR.    KING    AND    POLLY.  457 

that  dreadful  misunderstanding  about  Mr.  Mar- 
lowe ;  that  hurt  me  worse  than  all.  O,  Polly ! 
if  you  only  knew  the  man,"  and  Jasper  relapsed 
into  gloom  once  more. 

"  O,  dear,  dear ! "  cried  Polly  sympathetically, 
and  clasping  her  hands.  "  What  can  we  do  ; 
isn't  there  anything  to  do  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Jasper,  "  absolutely  nothing. 
When  father  once  makes  up  his  mind  about 
anything,  it's  made  up  for  all  time.  I  must 
just  lose  the  friendship  of  that  man,  as  well  as 
my  place."  With  that  his  gloom  deepened,  and 
Polly,  feeling  powerless  to  utter  a  word,  slipped 
her  hand  within  his  as  it  lay  on  his  knee. 

He  looked  up  and  smiled  gratefully.  "You 
see,  Polly,  we  can't  say  anything  to  him." 

"  Oh  !  no,  no,"  cried  Polly  in  horror  at  the 
mere  thought ;  "  I've  only  made  it  a  great  deal 
worse." 

"  No,  you  haven't  made  it  worse,  dear ;  but  we 
shouldn't  do  any  good  to  talk  to  him  about  it." 

"  I  don't  believe  I  could  live,"  cried  Polly, 
off  her  guard,  "  to  have  him  look  at  me,  and  to 
hear  him  speak  so  again,  Jasper." 

Jasper  started,  while  a  fr/>wn  spread  over  his 


MR.    KING    AND    POLLY. 


face.'  "  I  can  bear  anything  but  that  you  should 
be  hurt,  Polly,"  he  exclaimed,  his  fingers  tight- 
ening over  hers. 

"Oh!  I  don't  mind  it  so  much,"  cried. Polly, 
recovering  herself  hastily,  "if  I  hadn't  made 
mischief  for  you." 

"And  that  you  never  must  think  of  again. 
Promise  me,  Polly." 

"  I'll  try  not  to,"  said  Polly. 

"  You  must  just  put  the  notion  out  of  your 
mind  whenever  it  comes  in,"  said  Jasper  de- 
cidedly; "you'll  promise  that,  Polly,  I  know 
you  will." 

"Well,"  said  Polly  reluctantly,  "I  will, 
Jasper." 

"All  right,"  exclaimed  Jasper,  in  great 
satisfaction. 

"Polly  —  Polly."  Phronsie's  yellow  head 
came  up  above  the  stairs,  and  presently 
Phronsie  came  running  up  to  them  in  great 
haste. 

"  O,  Polly !  "  and  she  threw  her  arms  hun- 
grily around  Polly  and  hugged  her  closely. 
"O,  dear!"  letting  her  arms  fall,  "I  wasn't  to 
stop  a  minute.  Grandpapa  wants  you  to  drive 


MR.    KING    AND    POLLY.  459 

with  him,  Polly,  and  you  are  to  go  right  down  as 
soon  as  you  get  your  hat  on." 

"  Grandpapa  !  "  screamed  Polly,  jumping  off 
from  the  window-seat  so  hastily  that  Phronsie 
nearly  fell  over,  while  Jasper  was  hardly  less 
excited.  u  Why,  Phronsie,  you  can't  mean  it. 
He"— 

"  Father  really  wants  you,  Polly,  I  know," 
broke  in  Jasper,  with  a  look  into  the  brown 
eyes.  But  his  voice  shook,  and  if  Phronsie 
hadn't  been  so  worried  over  Polly,  she  would 
certainly  have  noticed  it. 

"  Polly  hasn't  had  any  dinner,"  she  said  in  a 
troiibled  way. 

"  Oh !  I  don't  care  for  dinner,"  cried  Polly, 
with  another  look  at  Jasper,  and  beginning  to 
dance  off  to  her  room  for  her  hat. 

"Butyoti  must  have  some,"  declared  Phronsie 
in  gentle  authority,  going  toward  the  stairs, "  and 
I  shall  just  ask  Grandpapa  to  wait  for  you  to 
get  it.  Mrs.  Higby  saved  your  dinner  for  you, 
Polly  "- 

"  Oh !  I  couldn't  eat  a  morsel,"  protested 
Polly  from  her  little  room,  "  and  don't  ask 
Grandpapa  to  wait  an  instant,  whatever  you 


460  ME.    KING    AND    POLLY. 

do,  Phronsie.  See,  I'm  ready,"  and  she  ran 
out  into  the  hall,  putting  on  her  hat  as  she  spoke. 

"Get  her  a  glass  of  milk,  Phronsie,"  called 
Jasper,  standing  by  the  stair-railing  ;  "  that's  a 
good  child." 

Polly  flashed  him  a  grateful  look  as  she 
dashed  down  the  stairs,  drawing  on  her  gloves, 
and  not  daring  to  look  forward  to  meeting 
Grandpapa. 

But  when  she  came  out  to  the  back  piazza, 
Phronsie  following  her  with  the  glass,  and  beg- 
ging her  to  drink  up  the  rest  left  in  it,  old 
Mr.  King,  standing  by  the  little  old-fashioned 
chaise,  received  her  exactly  as  if  nothing  had 
happened. 

"  Well,  I  declare,  Polly,"  he  said,  turning  to 
her  with  a  smile,  "  I  never  saw  anybody  get 
ready  so  quickly  as  you  can.  There,  hop  in, 
child,"  and  he  put  aside  her  dress  from  the 
wheel  in  his  most  courtly  manner  possible. 

"Polly  hasn't  had  all  the  milk,"  said  Phron- 
sie, by  the  chaise-step,  holding  up  the  glass 
anxiously. 

"  Well,  I  don't  believe  she  wants  it,"  said  old 
Mr.  King. 


MR.    KING    AND    POLLY.  463 

"  No,  I  don't,"  said  Polly,  from  the  depths 
of  the  old  chaise.  "  1  couldn't  drink  it,  dear." 

Mr.  King  bent  his  white  head  to  kiss  Phron- 
sie,  and  then  they  drove  away,  and  left  her 
standing  in  the  lilac-shaded  path,  her  glass  in 
her  hand,  and  looking  after  them. 

All  sorts  of  things  Mr.  King  talked  of  in  the 
cheeriest  manner  possible,  just  as  if  Polly  and 
he  were  in  the  habit  of  taking  a  drive  like  this 
every  morning  ;  and  he  never  seemed  to  notice 
her  swollen  eyelids,  nor  whether  she  answered, 
but  kept  on  bravely  with  the  conversation.  At 
last  Polly,  at  something  he  said,  laughed  in  her 
old  merry  fashion  ;  then  Mr.  King  drew  a  long 
breath,  and  relaxed  his  efforts. 

"  I  declare,  Polly,"  he  said,  leaning  back  in  a 
comfortable  way  against  the  old  cushion,  and 
allowing  the  neighbor's  horse,  hired  for  the 
occasion,  to  amble  along  in  its  own  fashion, 
"  now  we  are  so  cosy,  I  believe  I'll  tell  you  a 
secret." 

Polly  stopped  laughing  and  gazed  at  him. 

"  How  would  you  like  to  take  a  little  journey, 
just  you  and  I,  to-morrow  ?  "  he  asked,  looking 
down  into  her  face. 


464  ME.    KING    AND    POLLY. 

"  A  journey,  Grandpapa  ? "  asked  Polly 
wonderingly. 

"  Yes ;  about  as  far  as  —  say,  well,  to  the  place 
where  Jasper  has  been  all  winter.  The  fact  is, 
Polly,"  went  on  Mr.  King  very  rapidly,  as  if 
with  the  fear  that  if  he  stopped  he  would  not 
be  able  to  finish  at  all,  "  I  want  you  to  look 
over  the  ground  —  Jasper's  work,  I  mean .  It 
seems  an  abominable  place  to  me  —  a  perfectly 
abominable  one,"  confided  the  old  gentleman  in 
a  burst  of  feeling,  "  but  there,"  pulling  himself 
up,  "  maybe  I'm  not  the  one  to  say  it.  You  see, 
Polly,  I  never  did  a  stroke  of  work  in  my  life, 
and  I  really  can't  tell  how  working-places  ought 
to  look.  And  I  suppose  a  working  man  like 
Mr.  Marlowe  might  be  different  from  me,  and 
yet  be  a  decent  sort  of"  a  person,  after  all. 
Well,  will  you  go  ?  "  he  asked  abruptly. 

"O,  Grandpapa!"  cried  Polly,  aghast,  and 
turning  in  the  chaise  to  look  at  him  with  wide 
eyes. 

"  Yes,  I  really  mean  it,"  nodded  old  Mr.  King, 
in  his  most  decided  fashion,  "  although  I  don't 
blame  you  for  thinking  me  funny,  child." 

"  I  was  only  thinking   how  good  you   are, 


MR.    KING    AND    POLLY.  465 

Grandpapa ! "  exclaimed  Polly  fervently,  and 
creeping  up  close  to  his  side. 

"  There  —  there,  Polly,  child,"  said  the  old 
gentleman,  "  no  more  of  that,  else  we  shall  have 
a  scene,  and  that's  what  I  never  did  like,  dear, 
you  know.  Well,  will  you  go  with  me  —  you 
haven't  said  yes  yet." 

"  Oh !  yes,  yes,  yes,"  cried  Polly,  in  a  rap- 
turous shout,  not  taking  her  glowing  eyes  off 
from  his  face. 

"  Take  care,  you'll  scare  the  natives,"  warned 
old  Mr.  King,  beaming  at  her.  "  Brierly  folks 
couldn't  have  any  such  transports,  Polly,"  as 
they  turned  down  a  shady  lane  and  ambled  by 
a  quiet  farmhouse. 

"  Well,  they  ought  to,"  replied  Polly  merrily, 
peering  out  at  the  still,  big  house.  "  O,  Grand- 
papa !  I  just  want  to  get  out  and  jump  and 
scream.  I  don't  feel  any  bigger  than  Phronsie." 

"  Well,  I  much  rather  have  you  here  in  this 
carriage  with  me,"  said  the  old  gentleman  com- 
posedly. "  Now  that's  settled  that  we  are  go- 
ing, Polly.  Of  course  I  asked  the  doctor ;  I 
sent  down  a  letter  to  him  after  dinner,  to  ask 
if  your  arm  would  let  you  take  a  little  journey 


466  MB.    KING    AND    POLLY. 

with  me,  and  of  course  he  said  'yes,' like  a  sen- 
sible man.  Why  shouldn't  he,  pray  tell  —  when 
we  were  all  going  home  in  a  day  or  two  ?  Now, 
of  course,  that  must  be  postponed  a  bit." 

"  Never  mind,"  Polly  hastened  to  say,  "  if 
Jasper  is  only  fixed  up." 

"  Now,  Polly,"  Mr.  King  shifted  his  position 
a  bit,  so  that  he  might  see  her  the  better, 
"  perhaps  Mr.  Marlowe  won't  take  Jasper  back. 
Judging  from  what  I  know  of  the  man,  I  don't 
think  he  will,"  and  the  old  gentleman's  face, 
despite  his  extreme  care,  began  to  look  trou- 
bled at  once. 

"Oh!  maybe  he  will,"  cried  Polly  warmly. 
"  Grandpapa,  I  shouldn't  wonder  at  all  —  lie 
must ! "  she  added  positively. 

"  I  don't  know,  Polly,"  he  said,  in  a  worried 
way.  "  I  think  it's  very  doubtful ;  indeed,  from 
what  I  know  of  business  now,  I  don't  believe 
at  all  that  he  will.  But  then,  we  can  try." 

"  Oh  !  we  can  try,"  echoed  Polly  hopefully, 
and  feeling  as  if,  since  God  was  good,  he  would 
let  Jasper  back  into  his  chosen  life-work. 

"  Well,  we'll  start  early  to-morrow  morning 
on  our  little  trip,  Polly,"  said  the  old  gentle- 


MR.    KING    AND    POLLY.  467 

man,  catching  her  infectious  spirit,  and  giving 
the  old  horse  a  fillip  with  the  whip.  "  Mean- 
time, not  a  word,  my  dear,  of  our  little  plan  !  " 

So  Polly  promised  the  deepest  secrecy,  and 
that  no  one  should  even  have  a  hint  from 
her  looks,  of  what  Grandpapa  and  she  were 
to  do. 

And  the  next  morning,  although  everybody 
was  nearly  devoured  by  curiosity,  no  one  dared 
to  ask  questions  ;  so  old  Mr.  King  and  Polly, 
with  two  well-filled  portmanteaus,  departed  for 
a  journey  of  apparently  a  few  days;  and  Polly 
didn't  dare  to  trust  herself  alone  with  Jasper, 
but  ran  a  race  with  him  around  all  the  angles 
of  the  old  farmhouse,  always  cleverly  disappear- 
ing with  a  merry  laugh  when  there  was  the  least 
chance  of  his  overtaking  her  and  cornering  her 
for  an  explanation. 

And  Pickering  Dodge,  in  his  invalid  chair 
drawn  close  to  the  window,  heard  the  merry 
preparations  for  the  journey,  and  fretfully  de- 
clared "that  people  seem  to  be  happy,  with 
never  a  thought  for  a  poor  dog  like  me,"  while 
old  Mr.  Loughead,  who,  despite  Doctor  Bryce's 
verdict,  had  never  seemed  quite  well  enough  in 


468  MR.    KING    AND    POLLY. 

his  own  estimation  for  his  departure  from  the 
"  Higby  hospital,"  on  the  contrary  brightened 
up,  exclaiming,  "  Now,  that  is  something  like 
—  to  hear  Miss  Polly  laugh  like  that  —  bless 
her ! " 

"  Good-by,  Pickering,"  said  Polly,  coming 
into  his  room,  old  Mr.  King  close  behind  ;  "  I 
am  going  away  with  Grandpapa  for  a  day  or 
two,"  and  she  came  up  in  her  traveling  hat  and 
gown  close  to  his  chair. 

"  So  I  heard,"  said  Pickering,  lifting  his  pale 
face,  and  trying  to  seem  glad,  for  Polly's  joy 
was  bubbling  over.  But  he  made  rather  a  poor 
show  of  it. 

"  Good-by  to  you,  my  boy,"  said  Mr.  King, 
laying  a  soft  palm  over  the  thin  fingers  on 

Pickering's  knee.     "  Now  see  that  you  get  up 

• 
a  little  more  vigor  by  the  time  we  are  back. 

Goodness !  all  you  want  is  a  trifle  more  back- 
bone. Why,  an  old  fellow  like  me  would  beat 
you  there,  I  'do  believe.  I  am  surprised  at  you," 
cried  the  old  gentleman,  shaking  his  fingers  at 
Mr.  Loughead,  with  whom  he  was  on  the  best 
of  terms,  but  never  feeling  the  necessity  to 
weigh  his  words,  "  that  you,  being  chief  nurse. 


MR.    KING    AND    POLLY.  469 

don't  set  up  with  that  boy  and  make  him  get 
on  his  feet  quicker." 

"So  I  could  do,"  cried  old  Mr.  Loughead, 
whose  chief  object  in  life  since  Pickering  had 
been  pronounced  out  of  danger,  had  been  to 
browbeat  the  trained  nurse,  and  usurp  the 
authority  in  Pickering's  sick-room,  "if  Mrs. 
Cabot  would  keep  out,  or  take  it  into  her 
head  to  return  home.  To  state  it  mildly," 
continued  the  old  gentleman,  not  lowering 
his  tone  in  the  least,  "  that  lady  doesn't  seem 
to  be  gifted  with  the  qualities  of  a  nurse. 
Providence  never  intended  that  she  should 
be  one,  in  my  opinion." 

"  Don't  tell  him  to  bully  me  worse  than  he 
does,"  cried  Pickering.  "  He  shows  a  frightful 
hand  when  he  wants  his  own  way." 

"That's  it,"  cried  old  Mr.  King  delight- 
edly ;  "  only  just  keep  it  up.  You'll  get  well 
fast,  as  long  as  you  can  fight.  Come  on,  Polly, 
my  girl,  or  we  shall  be  late  for  the  train." 

The  evening  before,  Jack  Loughead  ran  up 
the  steps  to  Miss  Salisbury's  "  Select  School 
for  Young  Ladies,"  and  pulled  the  bell  hastily. 


470  MR.    KING    AND    POLLY. 

Amy  ran  down  as  quickly  to  the  little  room 
where  she  was  always  allowed  to  see  her  brother. 

«  Well,  Amy,  child,"  cried  Jack,  when  they 
had  gone  through  with  the  preliminaries  always 
religiously  observed  on  his  visits  :  how  she  had 
progressed  in  her  music  under  the  new  teacher 
Miss  Pepper  had  recommended  during  her  en- 
forced absence,  and  how  far  she  had  pleased 
Miss  Salisbury,  and  all  the  other  things  an  elder 
brother  who  had  come  to  his  conscience  rather 
late,  would  be  apt  to  look  into.  "  And  so  you 
really  thyik  you  are  getting  on  in  your  practice  ?  " 

"  O,  yes,  Jack ! "  cried  Amy  confidently. 
"  Come  and  see ;  I've  a  new  Beethoven  for 
you,"  and  she  laid  hold  of  his  arm  with  eager 
fingers.  "  Now,  you'll  be  immensely  surprised, 
Jack  —  immensely." 

"  No  doubt,  no  doubt,"  answered  Jack  hastily, 
and  not  offering  to  get  up  from  the  sofa,  "  but 
you  needn't  play  it  now." 

"  Why,  Jack,"  cried  Amy,  no  little»off ended, 
"  what's  the  matter '?  You've  asked  me  regu- 
larly to  play  you  my  pieces,  and  now  to-night 
when  I  offer  to,  you  won't  have  any  of  it,"  and 
she  began  to  pout. 


MR.    KING    AXD    POLLY.  471 

"  That's  shabby  in  me,"  declared  Jack,  with 
remorse ;  and  getting  off  the  sofa,  to  his  feet, 
he  dutifully  spread  the  music  on  the  rack,  and 
paid  his  little  sister  such  attention,  that  she  was 
soon  smilingly  launched  into  the  new  piece,  and 
lost  to  everything  else  but  her  own  melody. 

"  That's  fine  !  "  pronounced  Jack,  as  Amy  de- 
clared herself  through,  and  whirled  around  on 
the  music-stool  for  his  applause.  But  his  heart 
wasn't  in  it,  and  Amy's  blue  eyes  soon  found  it 
out. 

"You're  not  a  bit  like  yourself  to-night, 
Brother  Jack,"  she  cried,  with  another  pout 
and  staring  at  him. 

"  You're  right ;  I'm  not,  Amy,"  declared  Jack. 
"  Come  over  to  the  sofa,  and  I'll  tell  you  about 
it." 

So  the  two  turned  their  backs  on  the  piano  ; 
and  pretty  soon,  Amy,  her  hand  in  her  brother's 
big  brown  palm,  was  nestled  up  against  him,  and 
hearing  a  confidence  that  made  her  small  soul 
swell  with  delight. 

"  Amy,"  said  Jack,  putting  his  arm  closer 
around  her,  "  when  Miss  Pepper  had  the  cour- 
age to  tell  me  of  my  duty  to  you,  T  made  up 


472  MB.    KING    AND    POLLY. 

my  mind  that  you  should  never  want  for  any- 
thing that  my  hand  could  supply." 

"  And  I  never  have,"  cried  little  Amy,  pok- 
ing her  head  up  from  its  nest  to  look  at  him. 
"  All  the  girls  say  you  are  just  splendid  to  me ; 
that  they  never  saw  such  a  brother;  and  I  don't 
believe  they  ever  did,  Jack,"  she  added  proudly. 

"  So  now,  what  I  am  about  to  do,"  said  Jack, 
speaking  with  great  effort,  "  isn't  to  bring  any- 
thing but  the  greatest  happiness  to  you,  Amy, 
as  well  as  to  me.  If  only  I  can  secure  it !  "  he 
added  under  his  breath. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do,  Jack?"  de- 
manded Amy,  springing  away  from  him  to 
stare  into  his  bronzed  face.  "  Oh  !  I  know ; 
you  are  going  to  Europe  again,  and  will  take 
me  this  time  —  oh !  goody,  goody  !  "  She 
screamed  like  a  child,  clapping  her  hands  gaily. 

"Hush,  Amy,"  cried  Jack,  trying  to  speak 
lightly,  "  or  Miss  Salisbury  will  come  in,  and 
send  me  off,  saying  I  spoil  your  manners. 
There,  come  back  here  to  me;  I  can  talk 
better  then,"  and  he  drew  her  to  his  side 
again.  "  No,  it  is  something  much  more  beau- 
tiful than  any  trip  to  Europe  would  be." 


MR.    KING    AND    POLLY. 


473 


"  It  can't  be,  Jack,"  cried  Amy  positively,  and 
burrowing  her  sunny  head  into  his  waistcoat. 


"  Listen  —  and  don't  interrupt  again,"  said 
her  big  brother.     "  Amy  —  how  can  I  tell  it  ? 


474  MR.    KING    AND    POLLY. 

Amy,  if  Miss  Pepper  will  —  will  marry  me,  I 
will  bless  God  all  my  life !  " 

This  time  Amy  sprang  to  the  middle  of  the 
floor  of  Miss  Salisbury's  small  reception-room. 
"Marry  you,  Brother  Jack!"  she  screamed. 
"  Oh  !  how  perfectly  elegant !  It's  too  lovely 
for  anything  —  oh  !  my  darling  Miss  Pepper," 
and  so  on,  till  Jack  couldn't  make  her  hear  a 
word. 

"  Amy  —  Amy,"  at  last  he  said,  getting  up  to 
her,  to  lay  an  imperative  hand  on  her  arm, 
"  what  would  Miss  Pepper  say  —  don't  get  so 
excitable,  child  — •  to  see  you  now  ?  Do  hush  !  " 

"  I  know  it,"  said  Amy,  stopping  instantly, 
and  creeping  humbly  back  to  the  sofa ;  "  Miss 
Pepper  was  always  telling  me  how  to  stop 
screaming  at  everything  I  liked ;  and  not  to  cry 
at  things  I  didn't  like,"  she  confessed  frankly. 

"  Well,  then,  if  you  love  her,"  said  Jack,  go- 
ing back  to  sit  down  by  her  again,  "  you  will 
try  to  do  what  she  says.  And  you  do  love  her, 
I  am  quite  sure,  Amy." 

"  I  love  her  so,"  declared  Amy,  "  that  I  would 
do  any  and  everything  she  ever  asked  me  to, 
Brother  Jack." 


MR.    KING    AND    POLLY.  475 

"  I  thought  so,"  said  Jack.  "  Well,  now, 
Amy,  I  must  tell  you  that  I  went  to  see  Mrs. 
Fisher  to-day,  to  ask  her  if  I  may  speak  to  Miss 
Pepper.  And  she  gives  me  full  permission ;  and 
so  I  shall  go  to  Brierly  to-morrow,  and  try  my 
fate." 

"  It  won't  be  any  trying  at  all,"  cried  Amy 
superbly,  and  stretching  her  neck  to  look  up 
with  immense  pride  at  her  tall  brother.  "  She 
can't  help  loving  you,  Jack !  Oh !  I  am  so 
happy." 

Jack  Loughead's  dark  face  had  a  grave  look 
on  it  as  he  glanced  down  at  her.  "  I  hope  so," 
he  said  simply. 


CHAPTER   XXIII. 

THAT    SETTLES    MANY    THINGS. 

££  TT'S  perfectly  dreadful,"  cried  Alexia 
_I_  Rhys,  wrinkling  her  brows,  "  to  try  to 
get  up  anything  with  Polly  away.  If  we  only 
had  Joel  to  help  us,  that  would  be  some- 
thing"— 

"  Well,  it's  got  to  be  done,"  said  Clem  For- 
sythe,  in  a  matter-of-fact  way. 

"  Of  course  it  has,"  cried  Alexia  gustily. 
"  Dear  me,"  in  a  tone  of  horror,  "  did  you  sup- 
pose that  we'd  let  Polly  Pepper  go  on  year 
after  year  getting  up  perfectly  elegant  things 
for  us,  and  then  we  not  celebrate  for  her,  when 
she  comes  home,  and  with  a  broken  arm,  too? 
The  idea,  Clem  !  " 

"  Well,  then  I  think  we  much  better  set  to 
work  to  think  up  something,"  observed  Clem 
wisely,  "  if  we  are  going  to  do  anything." 
476 


THAT    SETTLES    MANY    THINGS.  477 

"We  can't  think  of  a  single  thing  —  not 
one,"  bemoaned  Alexia  ;  "•  it  will  be  a  perfectly 
horrid  fright,  whatever  we  get  up.  Oh,  dear ! 
what  shall  we  do,  girls  ?  " 

"  Alexia,  you  are  enough  to  drive  anybody 
wild,"  cried  Sally  Moore ;  "  it's  bad  enough  to 
know  there  isn't  an  idea  in  all  our  heads  put 
together,  without  having  you  tell  us  of  it  every 
minute.  Cathie  Harrison,  why  don't  you  say 
something,  instead  of  staring  that  wall  out  of 
countenance  ?  " 

"  Because  I  haven't  anything  to  say,"  replied 
Cathie,  laughing  grimly  and  leaning  back  in  her 
chair  resignedly.  "  Oh,  dear  !  I  think  just  as 
Alexia  does,  it  will  be  utterly  horrid  whatever 
we  do." 

"  Don't  you  be  a  wet  blanket,"  cried  two  or 
three  of  the  girls,  "  if  Alexia  is.  Oh,  dear ! 
Miss  Chatterton,  you  are  the  only  one  of  sense 
in  this  company.  Now  do  give  us  an  idea," 
added  one. 

"  I  don't  know  in  the  least  how  to  help," 
said  Charlotte  Chatterton  slowly,  and  leaning 
her  elbows  on  her  knees  she  rested  her  head  in 
her  hands.  "  I  never  got  up  a  play  or  tableau, 


478  THAT    SETTLES    MANY    THINGS. 

nor  anything  of  the  kind  in  my  life ;  and  we 
never  celebrated  anything  either  ;  there  was 
never  anything  to  celebrate  —  but  I  should 
think  perhaps  it  would  be  better  not  to  try  to 
do  great  things." 

"  Why,  Miss  Chatterton,"  exclaimed  Alexia 
Rhys,  in  great  disapproval,  and  starting  for- 
ward in  the  pretty  pink-trimmed  basket  chair. 
"  I'm  perfectly  surprised  at  you  —  nothing  can 
be  too  good  for  Polly  Pepper.  We  must  get  up 
something  perfectly  magnificent,  or  else  I  shall 
die !  "  she  cried  tragically. 

"Nothing  can  be  too  good  for  Polly,"  re- 
peated Charlotte,  taking  her  head  out  of  her 
hands  and  looking  at  Alexia,  "  but  isn't  it  bet- 
.ter  not  to  try  to  be  too  grand,  and  have  some- 
thing simple,  because,  whatever  we  do,  Polly 
must  always  have  had  things  so  much  nicer." 

"  In  other  words,  it's  better  to  hit  what  you 
aim  at,  than  to  shoot  at  the  clouds  and  bi-ing 
down  nothing,"  said  Clem  sententiously. 

"  Yes  —  yes,  I  think  so,"  cried  Cathie,  clap- 
ping her  hands  ;  "  it's  awfully  vulgar  to  try  to 
cut  a  dash  —  that  is,  if  you  can't  do  it,"  she 
added  quickly. 


THAT    SETTLES    MANY    THINGS.  481 

"  Don't  say  '  awfully,' "  corrected  Alexia,  re- 
adjusting herself  in  her  pink-and-white  chair. 
"  Well,  I  suppose  you  are  right,  Miss  Chatter- 
ton  ;  you're  always  right ;  being,  as  I  said,  a 
person  of  sense." 

Charlotte  gave  a  short  laugh,  but  with  a 
little  bitter  edge  to  it.  Why  would  the  girls 
who  now  seemed  to  be  so  glad  to  have  her  in 
the  center  of  all  their  plans,  persist  in  calling 
her  Miss  Chatterton  ?  It  gave  her  a  chill 
every  time,  and  she  fairly  hated  the  name. 

"And  now  since  we  are  going  to  follow 
your  advice,"  went  on  Alexia,  "  be  so  good  as 
to  tell  us  a  little  bit  more.  Now  what  shall  we 
do  in  the  way  of  a  simple,  appropriate  fan- 
dango —  a  perfect  idyl  of  a  thing,  you  know  ?  " 

"  Well,"  said  Charlotte  quietly,  "  you  know 
in  the  olden  time  at  Christmas  " 

"  But  this  isn't  Christmas,"  cried  Alexia,  in- 
terrupting with  an  uneasy  gesture. 

"  Do  be  still,"  cried  the  other  girls,  pulling 
at  her,  "  and  let  Miss  Chatterton  finish  " 

"  At  Christmas  ages  ago,  when  special  honor 
was  done  to  entertain  the  King  wherever  he 
was  lodged,"  'went  on  Charlotte,  "  there  was  a 


THAT    SETTLES    MANY    THINGS. 

Lord  of  Misrule,  who  gathered  together  a  com- 
pany of  ladies  and  gentlemen,  who  rummaged 
the  old  castles  for  grotesque  costumes  and  fur- 
belows. And  then  masked,  they  all  came  in 
and  marched  before  the  King,  and  danced,  oh 
—  everything  —  we  might  have  Minuets  and 
Highland  Flings,  and  all  the  rest.  And  they 
did  everything  the  Lord  of  Misrule  directed, 
and  "  - 

"  Charlotte  Chatterton,  you  are  a  jewel ! " 
cried  Alexia,  tumbling  out  of  her  chair,  and 
flying  at  her,  which  example  was  followed  by 
all  the  other  girls. 

"  Thank  you,"  cried  Charlotte,  with  glistening 
eyes. 

"  Thank  you  ?  I  guess  we  do  thank  you," 
cried  Sally  Moore  heartily,  "  for  getting  us  out 
of  this  scrape." 

"  Oh !  I  don't  mean  that,"  said  Charlotte  in- 
differently, "  I  mean  because  you  called  me  by 
my  first  name,  the  same  as  you  girls  always 
talk  to  each  other." 

There  was  a  little  pause.  "  Oh !  we  didn't 
know  as  you'd  like  it,"  broke  in  Alexia  hastily, 
"you  are  so  tall,  and  you  never  seem  in  a 


THAT    SETTLES    MANY    THINGS.  483 

hurry,  nor  as  if  you  cared  a  straw  about  being 
like  a  girl,  and  we  didn't  dare.  But  now,  oh, 
Charlotte  —  Charlotte  !  "  And  she  gave  her  a 
hug  that  well  repaid  Charlotte  for  all  the  past. 

u  That's  a  regular  bear-hug,"  she  cried  at 
last,  releasing  her  and  taking  a  long  breath, 
"  and  equal  to  a  few  dozen  common  every-day 
ones." 

"  If  Charlotte  can  breathe  after  that,"  said 
Clem,  turning  on  Charlotte  a  pair  of  glowing 
eyes,  "  she'll  do  well.  We  are  just  as  glad  to 
call  you  Charlotte,  aren't  we,  girls,"  whirling 
around  on  the  group,  "  as  Alexia,  for  all  her 
bear-hug." 

"  Yes  —  yes,"  cried  the  whole  bevy. 

"  Well,  now,  girls,"  said  Alexia,  running 
over  to  give  Clem  a  small  shake,  "  let's  to 
business.  There  isn't  any  time  to  waste. 
Charlotte  Chatterton,  will  you  tell  us  the  rest 
of  it,  and  who  will  be  the  Lord  of  Misrule  ?  — 
dear  me,  if  we  only  had  Joel  here  !  " 

"  I  think  Doctor  Fisher  would  be  the  Lord 
of  Misrule,"  said  Charlotte ;  "  he  said  he'd  do 
anything  we  wanted  of  him,  to  help  out." 

The  girls  one  and  all  gave  a  small  howl, 


484  THAT    SETTLES    MANY    THINGS. 

and    clapped  their  hands,  crying,  "  Capital  — 
capital !  " 

"  Let's  go  and  ask  him  now  !  "  cried  Alexia, 
who  wasn't  anything  if  not  energetic ;  and  run- 
ning to  her  closet,  she  picked  off  her  hat  from 
the  shelf  and  tossed  it  on  her  head.  "Oh,  how 
slow  you  are,  girls  —  do  hurry  !  "  as  the  others 
flew  to  the  bed  where  their  different  head-gear 
had  been  thrown. 

"  But  it's  his  office  hours,"  said  Charlotte, 
hating  in  her  new-found  happiness  at  being  one 
with  the  girls,  to  put  a  damper  on  their  plan. 

"  Bother  !  supposing  it  is,"  exclaimed  Alexia, 
in  front  of  her  pink-and-white  draped  mirror, 
while  she  ran  the  long  hat  pins  through  her 
fluffy  hair,  "  it's  as  important  to  take  care  of 
us  girls,  as  if  we  were  a  lot  of  patients.  We 
shall  be,  if  we  don't  get  this  fixed.  Come  on, 
girls  !  "  she  seized  a  lace  scarf  from  some  mys- 
terious corner,  and  pranced  to  the  door,  shak- 
ing her  gloves  at  the  group. 

"  I  don't  think  we  ought  to  go,  now,"  said 
Charlotte  distinctly,  not  offering  to  join  the 
merry  scramble  for  the  wearing  apparel  on  the 
bed. 


THAT    SETTLES    MANY    THINGS.  485 

"  Charlotte  Chatterton  !  "  cried  Alexia,  thor- 
oughly annoyed,  "  aren't  you  ashamed  of  your- 
self ?  Don't  listen  to  her,  girls,  but  come  on," 
and  she  ran  out  to  the  head  of  the  stairs. 

The  other  girls  all  stopped  short. 

"  I  don't  think  Polly  would  like  it,  and  it 
isn't  right,"  said  Charlotte,  hating  to  preach, 
but  standing  her  ground.  At  this  Alexia,  out 
in  the  hall,  came  running  back. 

"  Oh  !  dear  —  dear,  it's  perfectly  dreadful  to 
be  with  such  good  people  !  There,  now,  Char- 
lotte, don't  look  like  that,"  rushing  up  to  the 
tall  girl  and  standing  on  tiptoe  to  drop  a  kiss 
on  the  sallow  cheek  — "  we  won't  go ;  we'll 
stay  at  home  and  be  martyrs,"  and  she  began 
to  tear  off  her  hat  with  a  tragic  air. 

"  Why  not  go  to  Madam  Dyce's  and  ask  her 
to  loan  us  some  of  her  old  brocades  and  bon- 
nets ? "  proposed  Cathie  Harrison  suddenly. 
u  She's  got  a  perfect  lot  of  horrible  antiques." 

"  The  very  thing  ! "  cried  Alexia,  the  others 
coming  in  as  chorus. 

Charlotte  Chatterton  rushed  as  happily  as 
any  of  them  for  her  walking  things.  "  And  then 
Doctor  Fisher's  office  hours  may  be  over,  and 


486     THAT  SETTLES  MANY  THINGS. 

we  may  stop  there  on  our  way  home,"  she 
cried. 

Doctor  Fisher's  office  hours  were  not  only 
over,  but  the  little  doctor  assiired  one  and 
all  of  the  eager  group  that  precipitated  them- 
selves upon  him,  that  nothing  would  give 
him  greater  delight  than  to  be  a  Lord  of  Mis- 
rule at  the  celebration  to  be  gotten  up  for  the 
home-coming. 

"  And  it's  a  very  appropriate  way  to  cele- 
brate, my  dears,"  he  said,  beaming  at  them 
over  his  large  spectacles ;  "  for  it  will  be  for 
the  coming  of  the  King  ;  King  by  name  as  well 
as  nature,"  and  he  laughed  enjoyably  at  his 
own  pun.  "And  I'm  sure  nobody  ever  did 
rule  his  kingdom  so  well  as  our  Grandpapa.  So 
let's  have  a  splendid  mummery,  or  masquing, 
or  whatever  you  call  it ;  and  in  my  opinion, 
you  were  very  smart  to  think  it  up." 

Thereupon  Alexia  pulled  Charlotte  Chatter- 
ton  unwillingly  into  the  center  of  the  group 
that  surrounded  the  little  doctor.  "  We  didn't ; 
it  was  all  Charlotte,"  she  said. 

Doctor  Fisher  took  a  long  look  at  the  pink 
spot  on  Charlotte's  sallow  cheek,  and  into  her 


THAT    SETTLES    MANY    THINGS.  487 

happy  eyes,  then   he  turned  and  surveyed  the 
bevy. 

"  We'll  have  a  good  time,  my  dears,"  he 
said. 

"  Now,  Polly,"  exclaimed  old  Mr.  King, 
drawing  her  back  an  instant  before  stepping 
into  Farmer  Higby's  big  carryall,  waiting  at 
the  station  as  the  train  came  in,  "  you  mustn't 
even  look  as  if  you  had  any  secret  on  your 
mind —  oh,  come  now,  that  won't  do,  my  dear," 
turning  her  around  to  study  the  dancing  eyes 
and  rosy  cheeks.  "  I  can't  take  you  home 
looking  like  that,  I  really  can't,  my  dear." 

Polly  tried  to  pull  down  her  face,  but  with 
such  poor  success  that  the  old  gentleman 
sighed  in  dismay. 

"  Well,  you  must  be  careful  to  keep  away 
from  everybody  as  much  as  you  can,"  he  whis- 
pered, as  he  helped  her  into  the  ancient  vehicle, 
"  and  whatever  you  do,  don't  say  much  to  Jas- 
per, or  you'll  surely  let  the  whole  thing  out," 
and  he  got  in  beside  her.  "  There,  drive  on, 
do,  Mr.  Higby." 

"  You'll  tell  Jasper  that  he  is  to  go  back  to 


488  THAT    SETTLES    MANY    THINGS. 

Mr.  Marlowe  ? "  Polly  leaned  over  and  was 
guilty  of  whispering  behind  Farmer  Higby's 
broad  back.  "  Oh,  Grandpapa !  you  won't  keep 
him  waiting  to  know  that,  will  you  ? "  she 
begged  anxiously. 

"  No  ;  that  shall  be  at  once,  as  soon  as  I  see 
my  boy,"  replied  the  old  gentleman  ;  "  but,  the 
rest,  Polly;  how  Mr.  Marlowe  is  coming  to 
look  in  upon  us  at  our  own  home,  and  to  meet 
us  the  very  evening  we  arrive  —  that's  to  be 
kept  as  dark  as  possible." 

"  Yes,  indeed,"  cried  Polly,  getting  back  into 
her  own  corner  with  a  happy  little  wriggle,  all 
unconscious  of  Grandpapa's  conspiracy  with 
Mother  Fisher  in  regard  to  the  home-coming. 

"  For  if  I  can't  have  the  surprise  party  I 
started  for,"  declared  the  old  gentleman  to 
himself,  "  I'll  have  a  jollification  at  the  other 
end."  So  he  had  telegraphed  to  Mrs.  Fisher 
an  additional  message  to  his  many  letters,  all 
on  the  same  subject  —  "  Have  what  celebration 
you  like,  and  invite  whom  you  like.  And  let 
it  be  gay,  for  the  College  boys  have  got  leave, 
and  they  bring  a  friend." 

And  at  such  intervals  when  he  could  take 


THAT    SETTLES    MANY    THINGS.  489 

his  mind  from  Jasper  and  his  affairs,  it  afforded 
Mr.  King  infinite  delight  to  tap  a  certain  letter 
in  his  breast  pocket,  that  opened,  might  have 
revealed  in  bold  characters,  a  great  deal  of 
gratitude  for  his  kindness  in  inviting  the 
writer  on  with  Joel,  which  was  gladly  accepted 
and  signed  Robert  Bingley. 

"  Where's  Jasper  ?  "  said  Mr.  King,  as  he  and 
Polly  got  out  of  the  carryall  into  the  bustle  of 
the  farmhouse  delight  over  their  return. 

"  He's  gone  fishing  with  Phronsie,"  said  Mrs. 
Cabot ;  "  we  didn't  any  of  us  expect  you  till 
this  afternoon." 

"  Goodness  me  !  couldn't  they  go  fishing  any 
other  day  ?  "  cried  the  old  gentleman  irascibly. 
"  Well,  I  suppose  there's  no  help  for  it.  Ah ! 
Loughead,  that  you?"  extending  a  cordial 
hand  to  the  tall  figure  waiting  at  the  end  of  the 
porch  till  the  family  greetings  were  over ; 
"  glad  to  see  you." 

But  Jack  Loughead  had  no  eyes  for  any- 
body but  Polly's  happy  face ;  and  he  barely 
touched  the  extended  palm,  while  he  mumbled 
something  about  being  glad  to  be  there  ;  then 
awkwardly  stood  still. 


490  THAT    SETTLES    MANY    THINGS. 

Mrs.  Cabot,  who  evidently  did  not  regard 
him  in  the  friendliest  of  lights,  turned  her 
back  upon  him,  keeping  her  arm  around  Polly. 
"  Pickering  is  waiting  to  see  you,"  she  said, 
and  trying  to  draw  her  off. 

"  I'll  come  in  a  minute,"  said  Polly,  break- 
ing away  from  her,  and  taking  a  step  toward 
Jack  Loughead. 

"  How  do  you  do  ? "  she  said,  putting  out 
her  hand. 

Jack  Loughead  seized  it  eagerly.  "May  I 
see  you  —  just  now  ?  "  he  asked  in  a  quick,  low 
voice.  "  I  have  your  mother's  permission  to 
tell  you  something  " 

"From  Mamsie,"  cried  Polly,  her  beaming 
face  breaking  into  fresh  smiles ;  "  yes,  indeed, 
Mr.  Loughead." 

"  About  —  myself,"  stumbled  Jack  truth- 
fully, "  but  your  mother  gave  me  permission  to 
speak  to  you.  Will  you  go  down  the  lane, 
Miss  Pepper,  while  I  can  tell  you  ?  " 

So  Polly,  despite  Mrs.  Cabot's  calls  "  Come, 
Polly,"  nodded  to  Grandpapa,  who  said,  "  All 
right,  child,  don't  be  gone  long,"  and  moved 
off  with  Jack  Loughead  "  down  the  lane," 


HE   WALKED   OFF,   LEAVING   POLLY    ALONE   IN   THE   LANE. 


THAT    SETTLES    MANY    THINGS. 

fresh  with  spring  blossoms  and  gay  with  bird 
songs. 

"  1  don't  know  how,"  said  Jack  Longhead, 
after  a  moment's  pause,  during  which  Polly 
had  lifted  her  face  to  look  at  him  wonderingly, 
"  to  tell  you.  I  have  never  been  among  ladies, 
and  my  mother  died  when  I  was  fifteen  ;  since 
that  I  have  been  working  hard,  and  known  no 
other  life.  You  have  been  so  kind  to  Amy," 
he  said  suddenly,  as  if  there  were  a  refuge  in 
the  words. 

"  Oh,  don't  put  it  that  way,"  cried  Polly,  full 
of  sympathy,  "  Amy  is  a  dear  little  thing ;  I  am 
very  fond  of  her." 

He  turned  glad  eyes  on  her.  "  Yes,  I  know. 
And  when  you  spoke  to  me  and  showed  me 
my  duty,  I"  - 

"  Oh ! "  cried  Polly,  with  cheeks  aflame, 
"  don't  make  me  think  of  that  time.  How 
could  I  speak  so,  and  to  you,  who  know  so 
much  more  of  duty  than  I  ever  could  im- 
agine? Pray  forget  it,  Mr.  Loughead,"  she 
begged . 

"  I  can't,"  said  Jack  Loughead  gravely,  "  for 
it  was  the  kindest  thing  I  ever  supposed  one 


494  THAT    SETTLES    MANY    THINGS. 

could  say  to  another  —  and  then  —  I  from  that 
time  —  loved  you,  Miss  Pepper !  " 

Polly  Pepper  stopped  short  in  the  lane. 
"  Oh,  don't  —  don't ! "  she  begged,  and  covered 
her  face  with  her  hands. 

"  I  must  tell  you,"  said  Jack  Longhead,  still 
gravely,  and  standing  quietly  to  look  at  her ; 
"  and  I  have  come  to  ask  you  to  marry  me." 

"  Oh  !  "  cried  Polly  again,  and  not  daring  to 
look  at  him,  "  I  am  so  sorry,"  she  cried,  "  I 
wouldn't  hurt  you  for  all  the  world,  Mr. 
Loughead." 

"  I  know  it,"  he  said,  waiting  for  her  to  finish. 

"  For  —  for,  I  do  like  you  so  much  —  so  very 
much,"  cried  poor  Polly,  wishing  the  birds 
wouldn't  sing  so  loud.  "  You  have  taught  me 
so  much,  oh,  so  much,  I  can't  tell  you,  Mr. 
Loughead,  about  being  true  and  noble,  and  " 

He  waited  patiently  till  she  began  again. 

"  But  I  couldn't  marry  you ;  oh,  I  couldn't," 
here  Polly  forced  herself  to  look  at  him,  but 
her  head  went  down  again  at  sight  of  his  face. 

"  You  sha'n't  be  troubled,"  said  Jack  Loug- 
head gently,  "  I'll  take  myself  out  of  the  way, 
and  make  all  excuses  at  the  house." 


THAT    SETTLES    MANY    THINGS.  497 

"  Oh  !  do  forgive  me,"  Polly  sprang  after  him, 
to  call. 

He  turned  and  tried  to  smile,  then  walked 
off,  leaving  Polly  standing  in  the  lane. 

"  Jasper,"  said  Mrs.  Cabot  in  great  irritation, 
when  Jasper  and  Phronsie  wandered  into  Mrs. 
Farmer  Higby's  neat  kitchen  a  half-hour  later, 
with  torn  garments  and  muddy  shoes,  "  they 
got  home  while  you  were  away,  and  that  tire- 
some Mr.  Loughead  came  a  little  before  them  •, 
and  he  made  Polly  go  to  walk  with  him ;  act- 
ually made  her ! "  Mrs.  Cabot  leaned  her 
jeweled  hands  on  Mrs.  Higby's  spotless  pine 
table,  and  regarded  him  in  great  distress. 

Jasper  bent  his  broad  straw  hat  over  the  bas- 
ket of  fish  a  minute. 

"  Oh !  "  screamed  Phronsie,  clapping  grimy 
little  hands  and  darting  off, "  have  they  come?  " 

"  My  !  what  a  sight  of  fish,"  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Higby,  getting  down  on  her  knees  before  the 
basket.  "  Now  I  s'pose  you  want  some  fried 
for  dinner,  don't  you,  Mr.  Jasper  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Jasper,  bringing  his  gaze  off 
from  the  fish,  "  I  think  they  better  be,  Mrs. 


498  THAT    SETTLES    MANY    THINGS. 

Higby,"  and  he  went  out  of  the  kitchen  with- 
out looking  at  Mrs.  Cabot. 

Up  at  the  head  of  the  stairs  he  ran  against 
Jack  Lough  ead. 

"  It's  all  against  me,  King,"  said  Jack  un- 
steadily. 

Jasper  lifted  heavy  eyes,  that,  all  at  once, 
held  a  lightning  gleam.  Then  he  put  his  good 
right  hand  on  Jack's  shoulder. 

"  I'm  sorry  for  you,"  he  said. 

"One  thing,  King,"  said  Jack  gratefully, 
"  will  you  have  an  eye  to  my  uncle  ?  He  won't 
come  with  me  now,  but  insists  on  going  with 
your  father  who  kindly  invited  us  botli  to  go 
home  with  you  all.  And  when  he  is  ready, 
just  telegraph  me  and  I  will  meet  him  at  New 
York." 

"  I'll  do  it  gladly,"  said  Jasper,  quite  shocked 
at  Jack's  appearance  ;  "  anything  more,  Loug- 
head  ?  Do  let  me  help  you." 

"  Nothing,"  said  Jack,  without  looking  back. 


CHAPTER   XXIV. 

HOME  ! 

U  T  DON'T  want  to  leave  you,  Mrs.  Higby," 
JL  said  Phronsie  slowly. 

Mrs.  Higby  looked  as  if  she  were  about  to 
throw  her  apron  over  her  head  again.  "  You 
blessed  child  ! "  she  exclaimed,  half-crying  and 
allowing  her  hands  to  rest  on  the  rim  of  the 
dish-pan. 

"  You  have  been  so  very  good  to  us,"  con- 
tinued Phronsie,  shaking  her  yellow  head  de- 
cidedly. "  I  love  you,  Mrs.  Higby,  very  much 
indeed."  With  that  she  clasped  the  farmer's 
wife  around  her  stout  waist  and  held  her  closely. 

"  Dear  —  dear ! "  cried  Mrs.  Higby,  violently 
caressing  Phronsie  ;  "  you  precious  lamb,  you, 
to  think  I  sha'n't  hear  you  pattering  around 
any  more,  nor  asking  questions." 

"  I've  made  you  ever  so  much  trouble,  Mrs. 
499 


500  HOME ! 

Higby,"  said  Phronsie,  in  a  penitent  little 
voice,  and  enjoying  to  the  fullest  extent  the 
petting  she  was  receiving.  "*And  I'm  so 
sorry." 

"  Trouble ! "  exploded  the  farmer's  wife, 
smoothing  Phronsie's  yellow  hair  with  her 
large  red  hands,  "the  land!  it's  only  a  sight  of 
comfort  you've  been.  Why,  I've  just  set  by 
you ! " 

"  I've  come  in  here,"  said  Phronsie,  reflect- 
ively peering  around  at  the  spotless  kitchen 
floor,  "  with  muddy  boots  on  and  spoiled  it ; 
and  I've  talked  when  you  wanted  to  weigh 
out  things,  and  make  cake,  and  once,  don't 
you  remember,  Mrs.  Higby,  I  left  the  pan- 
try door  open  and  the  cat  got  in  and  ate  up 
part  of  the  custard  pudding." 

"  Bless  your  heart!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Higby, 
with  another  squeeze,  "  I've  forgot  all  about  it." 

"  But  I  haven't,"  said  Phronsie,  with  a  sigh, 
"  and  I'm  sorry." 

"Well,  now,"  said  the  farmer's  wife,  "I'll 
tell  you  how  we  will  settle  that ;  if  you'll 
come  again  to  the  farm,  and  give  my  old  eyes 
a  sight  of  you,  that'll  make  it  all  right." 


HOME  !  501 

"  You're  not  old,"  cried  Phronsie,  wriggling 
enough  out  of  Mrs.  Higby's  arras  to  look  at 
the  round  red  cheeks  and  bright  eyes.  "  Oh, 
Mrs.  Higby !  and  you're  just  as  nice  !  "  With 
that  she  clasped  her  impulsively  around  the 
neck.  "  And  Pickering  likes  you  too,  Mrs. 
Higby,"  continued  Phronsie,  "he  says  you're 
as  good  as  gold." 

"  You  don't  say  so ! "  cried  Mrs.  •  Farmer 
Higby,  intensely  gratified  ;  "  well,  he's  as  nice 
a  boy  as  ever  lived,  I'm  sure,  and  I'm  just  as 
tickled  as  I  can  be  that  that  fever  was  broke  up 
so  sudden,  for  you  see,  Phronsie,  he's  got  the 
making  of  being  a  right  smart  man  yet." 

"  Grandpapa  is  going  to  have  Pickering  go 

t 
home  with    us,"  said  Phronsie,  confidentially, 

and  edging  away  from  the  farmer's  wife  to 
facilitate  conversation.  "And  he's  going  to 
stay  at  our  house  with  us  till  he  gets  nice  and 
strong." 

"  Well,  Pm  dreadful  glad  of  that,"  declared 
Mrs.  Higby  heartily,  "for  that  a'nt  of  his  — 
well,  there,  Phronsie,  she  ain't  to  my  taste;  she 
is  such  a  making  sort  of  woman  — she  comes 
in  here  and  she  wants  to  make  me  do  this,  and 


502  HOME  ! 

do  that,  till  I'm  most  out  of  my  wits,  and  I'd 
like  to  take  my  broom  and  say  «  scat '  as  I  do 
to  the  cat,"  and  a  black  frown  settled  on  Mrs. 
Higby's  pleasant  face. 

Phronsie  began  to  look  quite  grave.  "  She 
loves  Pickering,"  she  said  thoughtfully,  "  and 
when  he  was  so  bad  she  cried  almost  all  the 
time,  Mrs.  Higby." 

"  Oh  !  she  loves  him  well  enough,"  answered 
Mrs.  Higby,  "  but  she  fusses  over  him  so,  and 
wants  her  way  all  the  same.  It  would  be  good 
if  she  thought  somebody  else  knew  something 
once  in  a  while,"  and  she  began  to  splash  in 
the  dish-pan  vigorously  to  make  up  for  lost 
time,  quickly  heaping  up  a  pile  of  dishes  to 
drain  on  the  little  old  tray. 

"  Let  me  wipe  them,  do,  Mrs.  Higby," 
begged  Phronsie  eagerly,  and  without  waiting 
for  the  permission  she  felt  quite  sure  of, 
Phronsie  picked  up  the  long  brown  towel  and 
set  to  work. 

Upstairs  Jasper  and  his  father  were  going 
over  again  all  the  incidents  of  Mr.  King's  and 
Polly's  trip,  that  the  old  gentleman  was  will- 
ing to  communicate,  and  Jasper,  despite  his 


HOME  !  503 

eagerness  to  know  all  the  whys  and  where- 
fores, held  himself  in  check  as  well  as  he  could, 
scarcely  realizing  that  he  was  really  to  go  back 
to  Mr.  Marlowe's. 

And  Polly  and  Mrs.  Cabot  were  busily  pack- 
ing, with  the  aid  of  a  farmer's  daughter  who 
lived  near,  while  Polly,  who  dearly  loved  to  do 
it  all  herself,  was  forced  to  stand  by  and  direct 
matters;  and  old  Mr.  Longhead  divided  his 
time  between  stalking  out  to  the  piazza  where 
Pickering  was  slowly  pacing  back  and  forth  in 
his  "  constitutional,"  to  insist  that  he  shouldn't 
"  walks  his  legs  off,"  and  calling  Polly  from  net- 
work, "  just  to  help  me  a  bit,  my  dear " 
when  he  got  into  a  tight  place  over  the  pack- 
ing that  he  insisted  should  be  done  by  none 
but  his  own  two  hands. 

And  the  whole  farmhouse  was  soon  thrown 
into  such  a  bustle  and  ferment,  that  any  one 
looking  in  would  have  known  without  the  tell- 
ing, that  "  Mr.  King's  family  are  going  home." 
And  after  a  day  or  so  of  all  this,  Farmer 
Higby  carried  a  wagon-load  of  trunks  down  to 
the  little  station,  and  his  wife  drove  the  carry- 
all, in  the  back  of  which  Pickering  was  care- 


504  HOME  ! 

fully  tucked  with  Mrs.  Cabot,  who  insisted  on 
being  beside  him,  and  old  Mr.  Loughead  in 
front  —  the  others  of  the  party  merrily  follow- 
ing in  a  large  old  vehicle  of  no  particular 
pattern  whatever  —  and  before  anybody  could 
hardly  realize  it,  the  train  came  rushing  in,  and 
there  were  hurried  good-bys,  and  hand-shakes, 
and  they  were  off  —  Phronsie  crying  as  she 
held  to  her,  "  I  wish  you  were  going  too,  I  do, 
dear  Mrs.  Higby."  And  the  farmer  and  his 
wife  were  left  on  the  platform,  staring  after 
them  with  sorry  eyes. 

"Well,  now,  Phronsie,"  said  Mr.  King,  as 
they  quieted  down,  and  Phronsie  turned  back 
after  the  last  look  at  the  little  station,  "  I  think 
it  is  time  to  answer  your  question,  so  as  to 
let  you  go  home  without  anything  on  your 
mind." 

"About  Charlotte,  you  mean,  Grandpapa?" 
whispered  Phronsie  softly,  with  wide  eyes,  and 
glancing  back  to  see  that  no  one  else  heard. 

"To  be  sure  —  about  Charlotte,"  said  the 
old  gentleman.  "  Well,  I've  concluded  you 
ought  to  have  your  way,  and  make  Charlotte  a 
gift  of  some  money,  if  you  want  to." 


HOME !  505 

"Oh,  Grandpapa!  "  cried  Phronsie, in  a  sup- 
pressed scream,  and  having  great  difficulty  not 
to  clap  her  hands ;  "oh,  how  good ! "  then 
she  sat  quite  still,  and  folded  them  in  silent 
rapture. 

"  And  I'll  see  that  it  is  fixed  as  soon  as  may 
be  after  we  get  home,"  said  the  old  gentleman, 
"  and  I'm  sure  I'm  glad  you've  done  it,  Phron- 
sie, for  I  think  Charlotte  is  a  very  good  sort  of 
a  girl." 

"  Charlotte  is  just  lovely,"  cried  Phronsie, 
with  warmth,  "  and  I  think,  Grandpapa,  that 
dear  Mrs.  Chatterton  up  in  heaven,  is  glad  too, 
that  I've  done  it." 

Old  Mr.  King  turned  away  with  a  mild 
snort,  and  then  not  finding  any  words  to  say, 
picked  up  the  newspaper,  and  Phronsie,  full  of 
her  new  happiness,  looked  out  the  window  as 
the  cars  sped  along. 

"  There's  Thomas  !  "  cried  Jasper,  at  sight 
of  that  functionary  waiting  on  his  carriage-box 
as  he  had  waited  so  many  other  times  for  them  ; 
now  for  the  jolliest  of  all  home-comings. 

"And  the  girls,"  finished  Polly,  craning  her 


506  HOME ! 

neck  to  look  out  the  car  window  at  a  knot  of 
them  restlessly  curbing  their  impatience  on  the 
platform  as  the  train  moved  into  the  station 
and  —  "  why,  Mamsie.  Oh,  Jasper !  how  slow 
we  are ! " 

Pickering  Dodge  shook  his  long  legs  im- 
patiently as  he  got  out  of  his  seat.  "  Don't  try 
to  help  me,  Mr.  Loughead,"  he  said  testily,  as 
the  old  gentleman  offered  his  arm  ;  "  I'm  not 
sick  now.  No,  thanks,  I'll  go  out  alone." 

Jasper  now  ran  up,  but  he  didn't  offer  to 
help,  but  waited  patiently  for  Pickering's  slow 
movements  as  he  worked  his  way  unsteadily 
down  the  aisle. 

"Don't  stop  by  me,"  said  Pickering,  rather 
crossly,  "go  ahead,  Jasper,  and  get  the  fun." 

"  Nonsense  !  "  exclaimed  Jasper,  yet  feeling 
his  heart  bound  at  the  merry  din  as  Polly  was 
surrounded,  and  the  babel  of  voices  waxed 
louder  ;  for  everybody  was  now  out  of  the  car 
but  Pickering  and  himself — "here  we  are 
now,"  as  they  neared  the  car  step. 

Alexia  Rhys,  back  on  the  platform  hanging 
to  Polly  who  had  one  hand  in  Mother  Fisher's 
at  the  expense  of  all  the  other  girls  who 


HOME !  507 

couldn't  get  the  chance,  looked  up  and  saw 
Pickering  Dodge,  and  dropping  Polly's  arm 
she  ran  lightly  across  the  stream  of  passengers 
and  put  out  her  hand. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Pickering  ?  it's  so  good  to 
see  you  back." 

Pickering  shot  her  an  astonished  glance, 
then  he  said  gratefully,  "  Thank  you,  Alexia," 
and  he  actually  let  her  help  him  down  the 
steps,  which  so  astonished  her  that  it  took  away 
her  breath  and  left  her  without  a  word  to  say. 

And  the  rest  was  all  bustle  and  confusion  — 
Mr.  King  declaring  it  was  worse  than  a  board- 
ing-school —  everybody  talking  together —  and 
Jasper  ran  off  to  see  to  the  luggage  for  the 
whole  party,  followed  by  Ben  trying  to  help. 
And  old  Mr.  Longhead  had  to  be  introduced 
all  around,  and  little  Doctor  Fisher  tried  to  get 
them  all  settled  in  the  carriages,  but  at  last 
gave  it  up  in  despair. 

"  Charlotte,  my  girl,  go  and  tell  Polly  to  get 
in,  will  you?"  he  said,  turning  to  Charlotte 
Chatterton.  "  Phronsie  won't  stir  till  Polly  is 
settled." 

"  Oh,  Polly !  let  me  drive  you  home ;  I've 


508  HOME  1 

got  my  dog-cart  here,"  cried  Clem  Forsythe 
alluringly,  and  trying  to  pull  her  off  as  Char- 
lotte ran  up  with  her  message. 

"  No,  no,"  cried  Sally  Moore,  "  I  brought  my 
phaeton  on  purpose;  you  know  I  did,  Clem  — 
come  with  me,  Polly,  do." 

"You'll  have  to  get  in  here,"  called  Doctor 
Fisher,  waiting  at  the  carriage,  "  to  end  it." 

"  Yes,  I  think  I  shall,"  said  Polly  merrily, 
and  running  vto  him  followed  by  Phronsie. 
"  Girls,  come  over  this  evening,  won't  you?" 
she  looked  back  to  call  after  them. 

"Yes,  we'll  be  over  this  evening,"  cried  the 
girls  back  again,  and  Phronsie  hopping  in 
after  her,  the  carriage-door  was  shut,  and  off 
they  rolled. 

And  old  Turner  was  waiting  at  the  steps  as 
the  carriage  rolled  up  the  winding  drive,  with 
a  monstrous  bouquet  of  his  choicest  blossoms 
for  Polly,  and  one  exactly  like  it  only  a  little 
smaller,  for  Phronsie  ;  and  Prince  came  rushing 
out  getting  in  every  one's  way  and  nearly  de- 
vouring Phronsie  ;  and  there  was  King  Fisher 
running  away  on  toddling  feet  from  his  nurse 
to  meet  them,  screaming  with  all  his  might ; 


HOME  ?  509 

and  Mrs.  Fargo  with  Johnny  in  her  arms  crow- 
ing with  delight  —  all  stood  on  the  broad  stone 
porch. 

"  Oh  —  oh  ! "  cried  Polly,  jumping  out,  her 
cheeks  aflame ;  "  are  we  really  at  home  ! " 

"  Oh  —  oh !  "  echoed  Phronsie,  flying  at  them 
all,  and  trying  to  keep  hold  of  Prince  at  the 
same  time. 

And  there  in  the  wide  hall  drawn  back 
within  the  shadow  of  the  oaken  door,  were  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Whitney  and  Dick  ready  to  pounce 
upon  them  in  a  moment. 

And  no  one  ever  hinted  a  suspicion  that  the 
college  boys  were  steaming  along  as  fast  as 
they  could,  for  the  evening's  festivities  ;  and  old 
Mr.  King  appeared  superbly  indifferent  to  the 
fact  that  Mr.  Marlowe  was  waiting  at  a  hotel 
for  that  hour  to  arrive  ;  and  everybody  rushed 
off  to  get  ready  for  dinner,  with  the  exception 
of  Polly  and  Jasper  and  Phronsie. 

"Oh!  we  must  go  in  the  conservatory  just 
for  a  minute,"  begged  Phronsie,  flying  off  on 
eager  feet. 

"  We'll  only  take  one  peep,"  said  Polly,  just 
as  eagerly,  "  come  on,  Jasper." 


510  HOME  ! 

And  then  Polly  had  to  run  into  the  long 
drawing-room,  and  just  look  at  her  piano,  and 
lay  her  fingers  lovingly  on  the  keys. 

"  Don't  try  it  with  your  lame  hand,  Polly," 
begged  Jasper,  close  beside. 

"No,  I  won't,"  promised  Polly,  running 
light  scales  with  the  fingers  of  the  other  hand. 
"But  oh!  Jasper,  I  do  verily  believe  J  could. 
My  arm  feels  so  well." 

"Well,  don't,  Polly,"  begged  Jasper  again. 

"  No,  of  course  I  won't,"  said  Polly,  with  a 
little  laugh,  "  but  it  won't  be  many  weeks,  you 
dear" — this  to  the  piano,  as  she  unwillingly  got 
up  from  the  music-stool,  and  let  Jasper  lead 
her  off —  "before  you  and  I  have  all  our  good 
times  together ! " 

Polly,  in  a  soft  white  gown,  sat  on  a  low  seat 
by  Mother  Fisher's  side,  her  head  in  Mamsie's 
lap.  It  was  after  dinner,  and  the  gas  was 
turned  low. 

"  Mamsie,"  said  Polly,  and  she  threw  one 
hand  over  her  head  to  clasp  Mother  Fisher's 
strong  fingers  closer,  "  it's  so  good  to  be  home 
—  oh !  you  can't  think  how  I  wanted  you." 


HOME!  511 

Just  then  somebody  looked  into  Mother 
Fisher's  bedroom. 

"  Oh !  beg  pardon,"  said  Jasper,  as  he  saw 
them.  But  there  was  so  much  longing  in  the 
voice  that  Polly  called  out,"  Oh!  come,  Jas- 
per. May  he,  Mamsie  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Fisher ;  "  come  in,  Jasper." 

Jasper  came  in  quickly  and  stood  a  moment 
looking  down  at  them.  "  It's  so  lovely  to  be 
home,  Jasper,"  said  Polly,  looking  up  at  him 
and  playing  with  her  mother's  fingers. 

"  Isn't  it '?"  cried  Jasper,  with  feeling,  "  there 
never  was  anything  so  nice !  Mrs.  Fisher,  may 
I  sit  down  by  you  here  ? "  and  he  went  over 
to  her  where  she  sat  on  the  sofa  —  it  was  the 
same  big  comfortable  affair  where  Joel  had 
flung  himself,  when  he  declared  he  could  not 
keep  on  at  school ;  and  where  Mamsie  had 
often  sat  when  the  children  brought  her  their 
troubles,  declaring  it  was  easier  to  tell  her 
everything  on  the  roomy,  old-fashioned  sofa, 
than  anywhere  else. 

"  Yes,  indeed  ! "  cried  Mrs.  Fisher  cordially, 
and  making  way  for  him  to  sit  down  by  her 
side. 


HOME! 

"Now  isn't  this  nice!"  breathed  Polly,  lift- 
ing her  head  out  of  her  mother's  lap  to 
look  at  him  on  Mamsie's  other  side.  "Now, 
Jasper,  you  begin,  and  we'll  tell  her  all  about 
it,  as  we  always  do,  you  know,  when  we  get 
home  from  places." 

"  I  want  to  tell  her  something  —  and  to 
you  too,  Polly,"  began  Jasper  quietly.  "  Mrs. 
Pusher  —  may  I  speak  ?  "  He  leaned  over  and 
looked  into  the  black  eyes  above  Polly's  shin- 
ing brown  hair. 

"  Yes,"  said  Mother  Fisher  as  quietly. 

"  How  funny  you  are,  Jasper,"  cried  Polly 
with  a  laugh,  "  asking  Mamsie  in  such  a  solemn 
way.  There  now,  begin,  do." 

"  Polly,"  said  Jasper,  "  look  at  me,  do, 
dear ! " 

Polly  lifted  her  brown  eyes  quietly.  "  Why, 
Jasper?" 

"  I  waited  because  I  thought  I  ought,"  said 
Jasper,  trying  not  to  speak  too  quickly.  "  It 
seemed  at  one  time  as  if  you  were  going  to  be 
happy,  and  I  should  spoil  it,  Polly,  if  I  spoke  ; 
but  now  —  oh,  Polly !  "  He  put  out  his  hand, 
and  Polly  instinctively  laid  her  own  warm 


HOME!  515 

palm  within  it.  "  Do  you  think  you  could  love 
me  —  I've  loved  you  ever  since  the  Little 
Brown  House  days,  dear !  " 

"  Oh,  Jasper ! "  Polly  cried,  with  a  glad  ring 
in  her  voice,  "  how  good  you  are,"  and  she 
clung  to  his  hand  across  Mamsie's  lap. 

"  Will  you,  Polly  ? "  cried  Jasper,  holding 
her  hand  so  tightly  that  she  winced  a  bit,  "tell 
me  quickly,  dear." 

"Will  I  what?"  asked  Polly  wonderingly. 

"Love  me,  Polly." 

"Oh!  I  do — I. do,"  she  cried;  "you  know 
it,  Jasper.  I  love  you  with  all  my  heart." 

"  Polly,  will  you  marry  me  ?  Tell  her, 
Mrs.  Fisher,  do,  and  make  her  understand," 
begged  Jasper,  turning  to  Mother  Fisher 
imploringly. 

"  Polly,  child,"  said  Mamsie,  putting  both 
arms  around  her,  careful  not  to  disturb  Jasper's 
hand  over  Polly's,  "  Jasper  wants  you  to  be  his 
wife  —  do  you  love  him  enough  for  that?" 

Polly,  not  taking  her  brown  eyes  from  Jas- 
per's face,  laid  her  other  hand  upon  his,  "I 
love  him  enough,"  she  said,  "  for  that ;  oh, 
Jasper ! " 


516  HOME! 

Old  Mr.  King  walked  proudly  down  the  long 
drawing-room  with  Polly  on  his  arm.  Every- 
body was  in  the  highest  possible  spirits.  The 
Lord  of  Misrule  had  made  a  triumphant  entree, 
covering  himself  with  glory  and  winning  great 
applause  for  his  long  train  of  masquers ;  whose 
costumes  if  not  gotten  up  on  strict  historical 
lines,  made  up  any  lack  by  the  variety  of 
other  contrivances,  each  one  following  his  own 
sweet  will  in  dressing.  They  had  gone  through 
with  the  minuet  and  the  pantomimes;  and 
Charlotte,  in  a  peaked  hat  and  a  big  flowered 
brocade  gown  rich  with  tambour  lace,  had  sung 
"like  a  nightingale,"  as  more  than  one  de- 
clared, and  now  the  room  was  in  a  buzz  of 
applause. 

Old  Mr.  King  took  this  time  to  walk  up  and 
down  the  long  room  with  Polly  several  times 
quite  pompously ;  and  once  in  a  while  the  lit- 
tle Lord  of  Misrule  would  rush  up  to  them, 
say  something  very  earnest,  seize  Polly's  hand 
and  give  it  a  shake  and  then  dart  away  ;  which 
proceeding  Joel  would  imitate,  at  such  times 
leaving  Robert  Bingley  to  his  own  devices  — 
until  Joel,  evidently  struck  by  remorse,  would 


HOME  !  517 

as  suddenly  fly  back  and  introduce  his  college 
friend  violently  to  right  and  left,  to  make  up 
for  lost  time. 

"  That's  three  times  you've  introduced  me  to 
that  girl  in  blue,"  said  Bingley,  on  one  of  these 
occasions,  when  he  could  get  Joel  aside  for  a 
minute.  "  Do  let  me  alone  —  I  was  having  a 
good  enough  time  where  I  was." 

"Did  I?"  cried  Joel,  opening  his  black 
eyes  at  him,  "  oh !  beg  pardon,"  and  off  he 
rushed  at  Polly  again. 

"How  queerly  they  do  act!"  cried  Alexia,  to 
a  knot  of  the  girls.  "  And  just  look  at  Mr. 
King, he  holds  on  to  Polly  every  minute — -I'm 
going  to  see  what  it's  all  about." 

So  she  hurried  across  the  room  as  fast  as  her 
high-heeled  slippers  would  let  her.  "  Polly  — 
Polly,  did  you  really  like  it  all  ? "  she  asked 
breathlessly.  "  Oh !  dear  me,  this  ruff  will  be 
the  death  of  me,"  picking  at  it  with  impatient 
fingers. 

"  Don't,  Alexia,"  cried  Polly,  "  it's  so  pretty 
—  it  was  all  just  as  fine  as  could  be,  and  splen- 
didly gotten  up !  " 

"  Well,  it  nearly  killed  us,"  declared  Alexia, 


518  HOME! 

fanning  herself  violently,  "and  this  old  ruff 
will  end  me.  There!"  and  she  made  a  little 
break  in  the  starched  affair  under  her  chin, 
"  that's  one  degree  less  of  misery." 

"  What  would  Queen  Bess  do  to  you  ? " 
cried  Polly,  saying  the  first  thing-  that  came  in 
her  head,  to  keep  -off  questions  she  saw  trem- 
bling on  Alexia's  tongue. 

"  Queen  Bess  was  an  old  goose  to  wear  such 
a  thing,"  retorted  Alexia.  "  Oh,  Polly  !  do 
come  with  us.  Let  her,  do,  Mr.  King,"  to  the 
old  gentleman  who  made  all  sorts  of  signs  that 
served  to  show  he  meant  to  keep  Polly  to  him- 
self. "We  girls  want  her  now,"  she  added 
saucily. 

"  You  keep  away,"  said  old  Mr.  King,  with 
an  emphatic  nod  and  a  twinkle  in  his  eye,  "  and 
the  other  girls;  I'm  going  to  have  Polly  to- 
night; you  can  come  over  in  the  morning  and 
see  her."  And  he  moved  off  coolly,  carrying 
Polly  with  him. 

Alexia  stood  a  moment  transfixed  with  as- 
tonishment. "Joel  —  Joel,  what  is  it?"  she 
cried  in  a  stage  whisper,  as  that  individual 
pranced  by  in  one  of  his  fits  of  remorse  looking 


*'  POLLY,    DO   COME   WITH  US: 


HOME  !  521 

up  Bingley.  "Do  tell  me  what's  come  over 
Polly,  and  why  does  Mr.  King  act  so  queerly  ?" 

Joel  flashed  her  a  smile,  but  wouldn't  say 
anything,  and  his  eyes  twinkled  so  exactly  like 
Mr.  King's,  that  Alexia  lost  all  patience. 

"  Oh  !  you  horrid  boy,"  she  cried,  and  ran 
back  dismally  to  the  girls,  with  nothing  to  tell. 

And  Charlotte  Chatterton  walked  as  if  she 
disdained  the  ground,  her  peaked  hat  tower- 
ing threateningly,  while  her  sallow  face  was 
wreathed  with  smiles;  and  it  seemed  as  if  she 
couldn't  sing  enough,  throwing  in  encores  in  a 
perfectly  reckless  fashion. 

"  What  is  it  ?  oh !  I  shall  die  if  I  don't 
know,"  exclaimed  Alexia,  over  and  over. 
"  Girls,  if  some  of  you  don't  find  out  what's 
going  on,  I  shall  fly  crazy  !  " 

And  the  room  buzzed  and  buzzed  with  de- 
light, the  growing  mystery  not  lessening  the 
hilarity. 

"  That's  an  uncommonly  fine  fellow  I've  just 
been  talking  with,"  said  Mason  Whitney,  com- 
ing up  to  old  Mr.  King  still  keeping  Polly  by 
his  side  ;  "  I  haven't  met  such  a  man  in  one 
spell ;  he's  a  thorough-going  intellectual  chap, 


522  HOME ! 

and  he's  been  around  the  world  a  good  deal, 
it's  easy  to  see  by  his  fine  manner.  Where 
did  you  pick  him  up  ?  " 

"  Whom  are  you  talking  of,  Mason  ?  "  asked 
Mr.  King,  in  his  crispest  fashion. 

"  Why,  that  new  man  —  Mr.  —  Mr.  —  I 
didn't  catch  the  name  when  I  was  introduced, 
that  you  invited  here  to-night,"  said  Mr.  Whit- 
ney, with  a  little  touch  of  the  asperity  yet  re- 
maining over  the  failure  of  his  plan  for  Jasper, 
and  he  jerked  his  head  in  the  direction  of  Mr. 
Marlowe. 

"  He  ?  —  oh  !  that's  Jasper's  publisher,  Mr. 
Marlowe,"  said  the  old  gentleman,  trying  to 
speak  carelessly;  then  he  burst  into  a  laugh  at 
Mr.  Whitney's  face. 

"  Whew ! "  exclaimed  that  gentleman,  as  soon 
as  he  could  speak,  "  I've  got  to  eat  humble 
pie  before  my  fourteen-year-old  son  Dick,  and 
you've  taken  my  breath  away,  Polly,"  looking 
at  her  blooming  cheeks  and  happy  eyes,  "  with 
that  piece  of  news,  and  "  — 

"What  news  —  oh,  what  news?"  cried  Alexia, 
coming  up,  too  frantic  to  remember  her  manners. 
"  Please  tell  us  girls,  for"  we  are  dying  to  know/' 


HOME  !  523 

"  You  come  away  !  "  retorted  Mr.  Whitney 
unceremoniously,  and  Mr.  King  laughed,  and 
Polly  shook  her  white  fan  at  them  as  the  two 
moved  off,  and  it  was  just  as  bad  as  ever ! 

"  Pickering,  do  you  know?  "  at  last  demanded 
Alexia,  as  he  leaned  against  the  doorway  sur- 
veying the  bright  crowd. 

"  Yes,  I  know  enough  —  that  is,  I  can  guess 

—  don't  ask  me." 

"  Oh,  what ! "  breathlessly  cried  Alexia,  seiz- 
ing his  arm  ;  "  do  tell  me,  Pickering,  that  is  a 
dear  —  oh,  I  thought  I  was  talking  to  the  girls 

—  I  don't  know  what  I'm  doing  anyway,  Polly 
has  so  upset  me." 

"  Well,  she  has  upset  me,  too,  Alexia,"  said 
Pickering  gloomily,  "  but  it  isn't  her  fault ;  she 
couldn't  help  it." 

Alexia,  feeling  that  here  was  coming  some- 
thing quite  worth  her  while  to  hear,  waited 
patiently. 

"  You  all  know  I've  loved  Polly  for  years," 
said  Pickering  steadily ;  "  I  made  no  secret  of  it." 

"  I  know  it,"  said  Alexia,  full  of  sympathy, 
and  not  daring  to  breathe,  lest  she  should  spoil 
it  all.  "  Well,  go  on." 


524  HOME  ! 

"  And  when  I  was  sick,  I  hoped  that  things 
might  be  different  —  for  Polly  was  sorry  for 
me.  But  one  day  Aunt  was  talking  about  it  to 
me,  in  a  way  that  made  me  mad,  and  I  knew 
that  Polly  would  be  bothered  awfully  if  she 
ever  got  at  her,  so  I  told  Polly  the  first  chance 
I  got,  that  she  was  never  to  be  sorry  for  me 
any  more,  for  I'd  made  up  my  mind  not  .to 
think  of  her  in  that  way  again  ;  which  was  an 
awful  lie,"  declared  Pickering  suddenly,  stand- 
ing quite  erect,  "  for  I  can't  help  it." 

"  Oh,  dear  —  dear !  "  exclaimed  Alexia,  quite 
gone  in  sympathy,  "aren't  things  just  shameful 
in  the  world  !  Of  course  you  oughtn't  to  be 
allowed  to  marry  Polly,  for  you  are  not  half 
good  enough  for  her,  Pickering,"  she  added 
frankly,  "  but  I'm  so  sorry  for  you  !  "  and  she 
put  out  her  hand  instinctively. 

Pickering  took  it,  and  "held  it  a  minute  in  a 
calm  grasp,  with  the  air  of  a  man  considering 
it  better  to  take  the  little,  since  he  couldn't  get 
all  he  wanted. 

"  But  now  tell  why  Polly  and  Mr.  King  and 
all  the  family  act  so  funnily  ? "  cried  Alexia, 
pulling  away  her  hand  and  suddenly  awaking 


"AND  YOU  WILL  BE  MY  OWN  BKOTHKK,  JASPKK,"  SAID  PHKONSIK. 


HOME !  527 

to  the  fact  that  this  important  piece  of  news 
had  not  been  made  known  to  her. 

"  Can't  you  see  for  yourself  ?  "  cried  Picker- 
ing, with  an  impatient  stare.  "  Why,  Alexia, 
where  are  your  eyes  ? "  which  was  all  she 
could  get  him  to  say,  as  Pickering  walked  off 
immediately. 

Jasper  all  this  while  seemed  to  find  it  im- 
possible to  be  separated  from  Mother  Fisher ; 
and  together  they  wandered  up  and  down  the 
drawing-room,  Phronsie  clinging  to  his  hand. 
"  I  always  longed  since  the  Little  Brown  House 
days,  to  call  you  Mamsie,"  he  said  affection- 
ately, looking  down  into  Mrs.  Fisher's  face, 
"  and  now  I  can  ! " 

"  And  you  will  really  and  truly  be  my  very 
own  brother,  Jasper,"  said  Phronsie,  as  they 
walked  on. 


BY    TtfCHRGHRET    SIDNEY. 
12mo,  illustrated,  $1.5O. 

"  Was  there  ever  a  more  charming  story  for  children  than 
the  '  Five  Little  Peppers  '  ?  That  book  at  once  took  its  place 
among  the  classics  for  children."  —  Golden  Rule. 

"  A  book  of  home  life  and  love.  It  tells  the  story  of  a  poor 
family,  obliged  to  pinch  and  plan  and  scrimp  from  day  to  day  ; 
but  the  members  are  so  imbued  with  the  home-spirit  as  to 
make  the  little  brown  house  in  which  they  live  a  genuine 
paradise."  —  Chicago  Interior. 

"  It  is  not  one  of  the  professed  Christmas  books,  but  there 
is  enough  Christmas  feeling  in  it  for  six." — Boston  Budget. 

"Of  all  books  for  juvenile  readers  not  one  possesses  more 
of  the  peculiar  qualities  which  go  to  make  up  a  perfect  story. 
It  ought,  for  the  lesson  it  teaches,  to  be  in  the  hands  of  every 
boy  and  girl  in  the  country."  —  Boston  Transcript. 

"  If  the  book  had  no  other  worth,  it  would  be  valuable  as  a 
refutation  of  the  cynical  old  saying,  that,  '  when  want  comes 
in  at  the  door,  love  flies  out  at  the  window.'  The  little  Pep- 
pers were  very  poor,  but  very  happy  and  affectionate  in  spite 
of  it."  —  Boston  Journal. 

"The  author  shows  inventive  power  and  much  insight  into 
the  mysterious  depths  of  child  nature." —  Western  Christian 
Advocate. 

"  It  cannot  but  have  a  beneficial  influence  on  the  disposition 
of  every  little  reader." — Chicago  Journal. 

"  This  story  abounds  in  amusing  incidents  to  please  the 
children,  and  at  the  same  time  instills  lessons  of  unselfish  love 
and  attention  to  duty."  —  Boston  Times. 

"  It  is  one  of  the  brightest,  breeziest,  most  natural  and  most 
enjoyable  of  the  portraitures  of  children's  home  life  in  America 
—  the  paradise  of  childhood/'  —  Christian  Observer,  Louisville. 

"There  is  so  strong  a  love  of  humanity  impelling  the  pen  of 
Margaret  Sidney  that  in  whatever  she  writes  she  makes  inter- 
esting the  homeliest  and  most  ordinary  aspects  of  daily  life, 
and  imparts  to  duty  the  glory  of  doing  and  to  virtue  its  own 
reward."  —  Chicago  Inter-Ocean. 

Illustrated  Quarto  Edition  now  ready,  only  25  cts. 
At  the  Bookstores,  or  sent  postpaid  on  receipt  of  price  by 

D.  LOTHROP  COMPANY,  Publishers,  Boston. 


FIVE  LITTLE 


Sequel  to 

Five  Little  "Peppers  and  How  They  Grew. 

By  MARGARET  SIDNEY.    12mo,  $1.50. 

"  Five  Little  Peppers  Midway  "  tells  the  story  of 
their  life  in  the  interval  between  childhood  and  the 
young  manhood  and  maidenhood  of  the  older  chil- 
dren, and  a  royally  good  story  it  is.  The  same 
loving  little  Peppers  —  Polly,  Ben,  Davie,  Joel,  and 
the  universal  pet,  Phronsie  —  all  reappear  in  the 
new  story,  not  a  bit  spoiled  by  the  prosperity  that 
has  come  to  them  and  their  wise  and  tenderly  loved 
mother,  who  is  still  "  Mamsie  "  to  them.  The  story 
is  replete  with  pleasant  surprises  that  the  young 
people  are  constantly  getting  up  for  each  other, 
among  which  are  parlor  theatricals,  in  which  pet 
Phronsie  covers  herself  with  glory  as  the  beautiful 
princess  who  is  carried  off  by  terrible  dragons  (the 
boys).  There  are  some  exciting  but  less  agreeable 
happenings,  too,  as  when  Dick  breaks  his  leg, 
Phronsie  gets  lost,  a  real  burglar  is  secured  by 
Dick's  heroism,  and  a  sham  burglary  results  disas- 
trously to  Joel. 

"A  perfect  Cheeryble  of  a  book ;  to  read  it  is  like  inhaling  oxygen."  — 
Boston  Herald. 

"  Margaret  Sidney  stands  side  by  side  with  Louisa  Alcott  in  fresh,  urt- 
stilted  style,  in  refined  sensibility  and  in  pure  and  wholesome  depiction  of 
home  life  among  children."  — Journal  of  Education. 

"  Every  page  of  the  book  is  full  of  sunshine."  —  Detroit  Frte  Press. 

"  Little  Phronsie  will  become  one  of  the  best  loved  characters  of  children's 
fiction."  —  Boston  Journal. 

"  Its  great  charm  lies  in  the  beautiful  blending  of  mature  life  with  that  of 
childhood.  It  teaches  to  every  parent  beautiful  and  instructive  lessons  with- 
out seeming  to  try."  —  Inter-Ocean,  Chicago. 

For  sale  at  the  bookstores,  or  sent  postpaid  on  receipt  of  price,  by 

D.  LOTHROP  COMPANY,  Boston,  Mass. 


THE   PHNSY   BOOKS. 

(A  rranged  A  Iphabe  tic  ally. ) 


Each  volume  i2mo,  $1.50. 

1.  Aunt  Hannah,  Martha  and  John  21.  Little  Fishers  and  their  Nets 

2.  Chautauqua  Girls  at  Home  22.  Links  in  Rebecca's  Life 

3.  Christie's  Christmas  23.  Miss  Dee  Dunmore  Bryant 

4.  Chrissy's  Endeavor  24.  Mrs.  Solomon  Smith  Looking  on 

5.  Divers  Women  25.  Modern  Exodus  (A) 

6.  Echoing  and  Re-Echoing  26.  Modern  Prophets 

7.  Eighty-Seven  27.  Man  of  the  House 

8.  Endless  Chain  (An)  28.  New  Graft  on  the  Family  Tree  (A) 

9.  Ester  Reid  29.  One  Commonplace  Day 
10.    Ester  Reid  Yet  Speaking  30.  Pocket  Measure  (The) 
it.    Four  Girls  at  Chautauqua  31.  Profiles 

12.  From  Different  Standpoints  32.  Ruth  Erskine's  Crosses 

13.  Hall  in  the  Grove  (The)  33.  Randolph's  (The) 

14.  Her  Associate  Members  34.  Sevenfold  Trouble  (A) 

15.  Household  Puzzles  35.  Sidney  Martin's  Christmas 

16.  Interrupted  36.  Spun  from  Fact 

17.  John  Remington,  Martyr  37.  Those  Boys 

18.  Judge  Burnham's  Daughters  38.  Three  People 

19.  Julia  Ried  39.  Tip  Lewis  and  his  Lamp 

20.  King's  Daughter  (The)  40.  Wise  and  Otherwise 

Each  volume  iinio,  $1.25. 

41.  Cunning  Workmen  44.  Miss  Priscilla  Hunter 

42.  Dr.  Deane's  Way  45.  Mrs.  Deane's  Way 

43.  Grandpa's  Darlings  46  What  She  Said 

Each  volume  12.1110,  $1.00. 

47.  At  Home  and  Abroad  52.  New  Year's  Tangles 

48.  Bobby's  Wolf  and  other  Stories  53.  Next  Things 

49.  Five  Friends  54-  Pansy's  Scrap  Book 

50.  In  the  Woods  and  Out  55.  Some  Young  Heroine 

51.  Mrs.  Harry  Harper's  Awakening  56.  Young  Folks  Worth  Knowing 

Each  volume  \zrno,  75  cents. 

57.  Bernie's  White  Chicken  64.  Monteagle 

58.  Couldn't  be  Bought  65.  Pansies 

59.  Docia's  Journal  66.  Six  Little  Girls 

60.  Getting  Ahead  67.  Stories  from  the  Life  of  Jesus 

61.  Helen  Lester  68.  Stories  Told  for  a  Purpose 

62.  Jessie  Wells  69.  That  Boy  Bob 

63.  Mary  Burton  Abroad  70.  Two  Boys 

Each  volume  \2-mo,  50  cents. 

71.  A  World  of  Little  People  79.  Her  Mother's  Bible 

72.  A  Dozen  of  Them  So.  Six  O'Clock  in  the  Evening 

73.  Exact  Truth  (The)  81.  Stories  of  Great  Men 

74.  Gertrude's  Diary  82.  Stories  of  Remarkable  Women 

75.  Glimpses  of  Boyhood.     By  Mr.  G.  83.  Story  of  Puff 
R.  Alden.  84.  Side  by  Side 

76.  Glimpses  of  Girlhood  85.  The  Browning  Boys 

77.  Hedge  Fence  86.  The  Kaleidoscope 

78.  Helen  the  Historian  87.  We  Twelve  Girls 

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price,  by 

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THE  POT  OF  GOLD. 


BY   7USHRY    E. 

12mo,  91.50.    Fully  Illustrated. 

A  new  book  by  Miss  Wilkins  is  an  event  in  literature,  and 
an  announcement  of  the  first  volume  of  her  juvenile  stories 
will  be  welcomed  not  only  by  young  people  but  by  all  who 
have  come  to  love  and  honor  her  for  her  wonderfully  faithful 
pictures  of  New  England  life. 

The  realistic  element  which  is  so  marked  a  feature  of  her 
stories  for  adults  is  blended  with  another  style  of  writing  in 
the  collection  which  makes  up  "  The  Pot  of  Gold."  Hereto- 
fore we  have  seen  Miss  Wilkins  at  her  best  in  her  simple, 
natural  portraitures  of  plain,  homely  country  folk,  whose  hum- 
ble joys  and  sorrows  she  has  painted  with  wonderful  skill. 
But  there  is  another  side  to  her  nature,  in  which  she  fairly 
revels  in  the  fanciful,  the  humorous  and  the  romantic,  and  de- 
lights in  giving  the  reins  to  her  imagination.  Nothing  can  be 
more  delicious  than  these  flights  of  fancy  and  the  fun  and 
drollery  with  which  they  abound. 

The  last  part  of  the  volume  ;  made  up  of  stories  of  child 
life  in  the  olden  days  of  New  England,  and  describes  some  of 
the  customs  of  those  earlier  times,  when  childhood  was  not 
the  paradise  it  now  is.  These  have  the  flavor  of  the  soil,  and 
are  as  quaint  and  old-fashioned  as  the  characters  themselves. 
Many  an  older  reader  will  delight  in  these  quaint,  old-time 
pictures  of  Puritan  days. 

The  book  is  beautifully  .gotten  up,  printed  on  superfine 
paper,  with  illustrations  by  W.  L.  Taylor,  Childe  Hassam, 
Barnes,  Bridgman  and  other  popular  artists.  The  binding,  in 
robin's-egg  blue  with  gold  and  silver  design,  is  simply  exquisite. 

***  At  the  bookstores,  or  sent  postpaid  on  receipt  of  price,  by 

D.  LOTH  POP  COMPANY,  Boston,  Mass. 


By  HERBERT  D.  WARD. 

Fully  Illustrated.  i2mo,  $1.25. 

To  tell  a  good  school  story  is  not  an  easy  thing  even  for  the  trained  writer 
of  stories;  to  tell  a  great  one  denotes  the  genius.  It  is  certain  that  no  reader, 
young  or  old,  can  close  Mr.  Ward's  "  New  Senior  at  Andover  "  without  the 
enthusiastic  declaration  that  it  is  a  good  book  ;  it  is  by  no  means  certain  that 
some  who  read  it  will  not  declare  that  it  is  a  great  book.  Mr.  Hughes'  "  Tom 
Brown  at  Rugby"  and  Canon  Farrar's  "  Eric"  stand  out  as  great  stories  of 
school  life  —  the  one  has  become  a  classic,  the  other  a  standard  ;  Mr.  Ward's 
"  New  Senior"  cannot  only  hold  its  own  with  those  two  famous  stories,  but 
can  really  attract  and  retain  the  attention  of  American  readers  with  even 
greater  facility  than  the  books  noted.  For  it  is  American.  Neither  in  lan- 
guage, plot  nor  make-up  is  there  the  least  suspicion  of  that  heavy  English  air 
that  until  now  has  dominated  too  many  stories  of  schoolboy  life.  Even  to 
the  utterly  absurd  schoolboy  pranks  and  yells  it  is  intensely  American,  while 
the  description  of  the  ball  match  between  Exeter  and  Andover  surpasses  any 
of  the  records  of  cricket  matches  that  are  the  pivotal  point  of  every  English 
school  story.  This  fires  the  blood  and  rouses  the  enthusiasm  of  every  reader 
who  has  played  or  watched  a  match  game,  and  old  alumni  will  live  their  days 
of  excitement  over  again  as  they  read.  The  character  drawing  in  the  book  is 
peculiarly  strong.  It  is  personal  without  being  familiar  or  aggressive,  and,  to 
even  those  who  do  not  know  the  Phillips  Andover  Academy,  the  doctor  wil 
be  a  center  of  delightful  study  —  a  true  type  of  the  conscientious  and  noble 
American  school  principal.  John  Strong,  the  central  figure  —  the  poor  boy 
who  works  his  way  against  all  odds  —  is  no  "  softy  "  or  "  goody-goody, ''  but  a 
clean,  manly,  practical  and  determined  lad,  to  know  whom  through  this  story 
will  be  a  tonic  to  the  weak-kneed  or  the  thin-skinned  young  fellows  who  can 
not  take  a  dare  or  stand  the  sneers  of  fools  and  bullies.  The  story  is  so  evi- 
dently the  outgrowth  of  Mr.  Ward's  own  school  memories  and  experiences 
that  this,  too,  adds  zest  and  interest  to  the  narrative  which  can  be  recom- 
mended to  all  readers  as  a  strong,  helpful,  humorous,  pathetic  and  absorbing 
story  of  life  in  an  American  boarding-school  told  by  one  who  was  an  American 
boarding-school  boy.  The  illustrations  are  all  excellent ;  many  of  them  are 
direct  reproductions  of  Andover  buildings  and  surroundings. 

»**  At  the  bookstores,  or  sent  postpaid  on  receipt  of  price,  by 

D,   LOTHROP  COMPANY,   Boston,  Mass. 


UCSB  LIBRARY 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


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